


31 Days

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [78]
Category: College Football RPF, Glee
Genre: College, F/F, M/M, Story Cycle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:05:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With two of them in music schools in New York City and one of them playing football for the University of Wisconsin, Kurt, Puck, and Finn try to redefine their relationship to accommodate 900 miles of distance and very different lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Calendar

**Author's Note:**

> This is our first story cycle, which is what we're calling the multi-part story arcs set in college and beyond. Each story cycle revolves around important date(s) and/or event(s). Each story cycle begins with a short "teaser" story, followed into multiple shorter stories to establish the date/events, an anchor story with the central action of the cycle, and a denouement -- these parts will all be posted as chapters of the story cycle. While the story cycles take place within the Story of Three Boys 'verse, many of them can also be read as stand alone stories with an established pairing. 
> 
> Thank you to David of Oz for his edits and Sep for being our very first set of eyes. 
> 
> The downloadable playlist for 31 Days is available [here](http://storyof3boys.livejournal.com/90282.html).

The iPhone has a calendar that will sync up with Finn’s iPad and with his laptop. He can even sync it with other people’s calendars and have _all_ the calendars on his phone. He has a football calendar that syncs with the coaching staff and the team, and a school schedule calendar that syncs with his mom and Burt, and a Wisconsin Singers calendar that syncs with the rest of the Wisconsin Singers. These calendars have all the important dates for his workouts and practices and rehearsals and school vacations.

Finn also has another calendar, though. It doesn’t sync with anyone else’s, because it’s a small rectangular paper booklet, about the size and shape of a checkbook. It doesn’t have any specific dates written in it, either, just one word, but every day before bed, Finn makes a slash mark through that day’s tiny square. The four squares after the last one he’ll mark through have T–H–E–M written in them in small block letters. 

Somebody looking at the book might figure out that Finn’s counting down to something and someone, but there’s nothing to indicate exactly what or who. Smart money would be on the holidays and that’s not entirely off base, since what Finn’s counting down to definitely happens over the Thanksgiving holiday. He’s not waiting for the break from school, though, or for food, or to see his parents, or even to see baby Audie-Aud, even if she is the most perfect and cute baby ever born.

Finn hasn’t really seen Kurt or Puck since July 27th, when they left him in Madison and he didn’t kiss them goodbye. He saw them once through the glass in the Columbus airport, as he flew in to see Audrey and they flew out, but they couldn’t get close enough to speak, let alone touch. He’s seen them on FaceTime, but that doesn’t really count, and even though they do it once a week, it never stops being a little bit awkward at the end, like none of the three of them know what to say. Finn sure doesn’t. 

He wants to say _I love you, I miss you, I miss touching you, I think about you all the damn time_. He wants to ask if they still love him, did they _really_ love him like he loves them, do they miss him, if they’d still want him if not for the distance. None of those things are things Finn can say, though, not with 900 miles between them and four years of college to go, not when he doesn’t have the slightest idea what the response will be. 

With each phone call, each FaceTime with them, Finn feels more and more like their life without him is their _real_ life, and the few months he shared with them are something they’re ok with—happy with, even—putting behind them. They seem so careful in their word choice, even more since Audrey was born, like they’re going out of their way to remind him that he’s their _brother_ again, not their whatever–he–was–before. Since that seems to be what they want, Finn plays along, because what he wants, what he’s always wanted most of all, was for them to be happy. If they’re happiest without him, he won’t do anything to mess that up.

He misses them so much and he counts down the days until he can see them again in person, touch them—even if it’s just in a brotherly way—again. Maybe… maybe there’s a chance they still want him, but he has no way of knowing, and it’s not exactly something he can ask them on the phone. Having something to focus on other than how much it’s going to hurt to be around them, but not really be _with_ them, seems like a smart plan, so every night before bed, Finn draws the slash mark through the little box. One day closer to _them_ , and whatever that’s ultimately going to mean.


	2. Starting Quarterback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A thirty-one day countdown to find out the answer to the question they haven't asked yet

On the first day of September, fresh off Noah’s first week of classes, and at the end of Kurt’s orientation week, the two of them go to the other side of Central Park and find Mad River Bar & Grill, nestled between a sushi bar and a thrift shop. Noah thinks it’s awful snooty for a sports bar, but maybe that’s just because it is on the Upper East Side. All the flat-screen TVs are turned to the Wisconsin game, though, and that, in the end, is the reason they’re there. They watch all four quarters of the game, peering at every sideline shot in case Finn’s in it, and they laugh when about three-quarters of the bar’s inhabitants get up to ‘jump around’ between the third and fourth quarters. No one but their server talks to them.

A week later, they both have their laptops and during the commercial breaks and halftime, Noah and Kurt both work on their respective English assignments. They get a few strange looks, but this week, the server tries to engage them in conversation. 

“New in town?” 

“College,” Kurt answers. “We’ve been here about a month now.”

“Are you from Wisconsin originally, then?”

“No, my brother’s there,” Kurt smiles, not really indicating that he means Finn’s playing football for the Badgers.

“Ahh.” The server nods and moves off, and a few minutes later, says something to the bartender. The bartender looks over and nods in their direction, but other than that, they’re still ignored. 

The third week of the season, they have to sit at the bar, because the tables are all full, which means they don’t end up studying during the game, either. Kurt asks a few specific questions about the plays, and near the end of the fourth quarter, they actually spot, for all of four seconds, Finn’s back on the television screen. While they’re still laughing, the bartender stops in front of him. “See someone you know?”

Noah looks at the bartender’s name tag for at least the fourth time. Winston. He’ll remember it eventually. “His brother,” Noah answers for them. “He’s a freshman, so he’s not going to be getting much playing time, but.”

“Ahh.” Winston nods and smiles slightly. “So you have to search the sidelines.”

Noah grins. “Exactly.”

The fourth week of the season, they’re not at Mad River when Wisconsin plays; they’re back in Lima, meeting Audrey and barely missing Finn in the middle of the Columbus airport. The fifth week, a few of the regulars ask where they were. By the seventh week, when the Badgers are playing at Perdue, most of the others greet them by name, asking if Kurt’s brother is going to see the field anytime soon, and even Kurt has reluctantly joined in ‘jumping around’ when it’s time. 

Nothing about the eighth week of the NCAA season feels particularly auspicious. It’s the middle of October, it’s a beautiful fall day, and they sit in Central Park until an hour before the game is going to start, walking into Mad River hand in hand. Winston told them that they didn’t get “too many gays here”, but no one’s made any comments or even looked at them askance. 

“Bad news,” Winston says as they sit down. “Jensen’s out. Rushed to the hospital this morning, maybe with a ruptured appendix.” 

“Jensen’s the quarterback,” Kurt says sharply, looking at Noah, then he turns to Winston. “Who are they playing instead?”

“Haven’t said yet.”

“No guarantees,” Noah murmurs. “No reason to think.”

“No,” Kurt agrees, but they both bite their lips and watch the pre-game coverage intently. 

“And we’ve just had word from the Badgers locker room,” one of the commentators says about thirty minutes before kick-off, “that in place of the ailing Jensen, Wisconsin’s offense will be lead today by true freshman Finn Hudson.”

“Holy shit!” Kurt squeals as they flash a picture of Finn on the screen. “Noah!”

“I know!” Noah grins and flings his arms around Kurt, spinning them both around. “He’s starting!”

“Wait, Hudson’s your brother?” Winston asks, staring at them almost dumbfounded. “Guess we never did ask, did we?” He raises his voice over the din in the bar. “Hudson’s their brother!” he calls loudly, and suddenly the entirety of Mad River is staring at them. There’s silence for a few beats before the regulars start to cheer, and Winston picks up two glasses, filling them both with beer before sliding them in front of Noah and Kurt with a wink. 

They raise their glasses before starting to drink, and by the time they show Finn on the screen, grinning widely, Noah’s fingers are twined with Kurt. Yeah, they saw him through that glass barrier in the airport, when his hair was a little too long and all three of them were on the verge of tears. They’ve seen him on FaceTime, too, but sometimes their FaceTime chats are short, because Finn has a test or study group, or Noah’s booked a practice room, or Kurt has to go work on costumes for his stagecraft class. During the game, the camera won’t stay on Finn the entire time, but it’s three hours of watching Finn, and Kurt’s hand squeezes tightly around Noah’s. 

Suddenly, Kurt and Noah are the most popular people in the bar, and whenever someone else walks in, Winston calls out “Guess what? Hudson’s their brother!” Noah chews on his lip while the rest of the pre-game show concludes, and all through Minnesota’s first possession, which ends with a missed field goal. Then Finn and the rest of the offense jog onto the field, and Kurt drops Noah’s hand to wrap his arm around Noah’s shoulder. 

“Oh god,” Kurt whispers. “I can’t stop watching but I want to close my eyes and have you tell me everything went perfectly.”

“Damn. I was going to get you to do that for me.” Noah shakes his head as they watch Finn take his first snap in a college game. 

Noah knows the best outcome would be a score on the first drive, to get Finn’s confidence up. A field goal would do; a touchdown would be even better. When they’re third and two, though, Noah just starts hoping for a first down conversion. 

“C’mon, Finn, c’mon,” he mutters under his breath, and he realizes suddenly that the entire bar is tense with them. They start to move, Minnesota goes for the blitz, and Finn escapes the pocket, running for eight yards to pick up the first down on his own. 

“Holy shit!” One of the regulars, Andy, claps both Noah and Kurt on the shoulder. “Now that’s the kind of initiative we’ve been missing at quarterback this year!”

They watch the rest of the offense pat Finn on the back, except for one guy who pats Finn on the butt, eliciting a growl from Kurt, and Noah’s pretty sure he’s scowling, too. After that, the rest of the drive goes smoothly, and when it’s first and goal, Finn hands the ball off to the running back, who takes it into the endzone and puts the Badgers up 7–0, once the extra point is kicked. 

The game is close; Minnesota pulls ahead before the half, but when it’s time to jump around, Wisconsin’s ahead by three, and when the seconds on the clock run to zero, the score is 27–21 Badgers. 

Winston announces that the Fifth Quarter Special will last for two hours, one day only, and he puts a second beer in front of Kurt and then Noah. This time, it’s most of the bar raising their glasses, and instead of switching to a different game, most of the TVs stay on the post-game press conference in Madison. They don’t ask Finn many questions, and most of them are sort of stupid. How do they _think_ he feels, winning a game the first time he starts, while he’s still a freshman? Still, it gives them more of an opportunity to watch Finn, and when the press conference ends and they see Finn leave the room, presumably to find the locker room, they take their leave of Mad River, as well. 

“I can’t believe it!” Kurt says again as they walk outside onto the sidewalk. 

“I know!” Noah grins. “I bet his phone is lit up.”

“ _We_ should call him,” Kurt points out. Kurt pulls out his own phone and laughs. “Dad should live-blog. Or tweet.” He shows Noah the twenty-six texts sent between the moment the game started and the end of it. “I’ll just tell him that yes, we did see that.” He shakes his head. 

“Guess that answers the question of whether Burt and Carole know,” Noah says with a snort. “Want to stop inside the park to call him?”

Kurt nods, and after they pass in front of the Met and wander into the park, they find a bench to sit on. Kurt wraps his scarf more tightly around his neck as the wind picks up, and his finger hovers for a moment before he presses his finger to Finn’s name on the screen.

Even though they know rationally that Finn’s still in the locker room, Noah realizes they both hold their breath until the voicemail message clicks on. 

“This is Finn! Leave a message!”

“Hi!” They chorus together just after the beep. 

“We saw your game,” Kurt continues. “The whole thing.”

“And the press conference, but we thought about smacking a few of the reporters.”

“You won! And apparently you played very well.”

Noah laughs. “Call us later, when you’re done celebrating.”

“Or while you’re celebrating,” Kurt amends. “We’re not particularly picky.” They laugh and then Kurt ends the call, leaning against Noah for a moment. “How much warning do you think he had?” Kurt asks after a long pause.

“Probably about as much as we did,” Noah says after a moment. “I bet they didn’t tell any of the team until after they announced it to the press. Keep all the quarterbacks ready. Well, either that, or they told them all as soon as Jensen went to the hospital, but it looked too chaotic for that option.”

“True.” Kurt stands and pulls Noah up with him. “They won, he didn’t make any big mistakes, and they didn’t just win because of the defense. Right?”

“Right.”

“So… ruptured appendix. I wonder how long Jensen’ll be out.” Kurt grins a little bit. 

“We know a starting player on an NCAA football team, blue eyes,” Noah responds. 

“It’s good we meet new people!” 

They’re walking inside the apartment, shedding their jackets and shoes, when it slips out of Noah’s mouth. “I bet Finn smells…” He trails off, realizing a little late what he’s saying.

Kurt just sighs wistfully, though. “Yeah. Very sweaty, I’m guessing. Even though it’s only 50°F or whatever in Madison today.”

“Playing’s hard work.” Noah shrugs as they continue undressing. It’s just easier not to wear clothes at home, most of the time, and if Kurt gets cold, that’s what the blankets or Noah himself are for, or both. “But yeah, probably pretty sweaty.” He wraps his arms around Kurt and places a kiss on Kurt’s jaw, then behind his ear.

“Mmm.” Kurt melts into Noah and Noah grins, repeating the kiss behind Kurt’s ear before tugging Kurt towards the ladder up to the bed. “I bet.” Kurt shakes his head slightly as he climbs up. 

Noah stretches out beside Kurt and drapes himself across Kurt’s chest. “Be nice to lick Finn clean.” His tongue darts out and licks up the middle of Kurt’s chest as he finishes the sentence.

“It would.” Kurt sighs. “You take the right, I take the left.” Kurt’s fingers run over Noah’s hair which, while short, is longer than Noah can remember having it in years.

“I miss him,” Noah says softly. 

“Me, too,” Kurt whispers. “I knew we would. Even before, well. And then we ignored it. But it hurts, baby.”

“I know.” Noah sighs and runs his hand along Kurt’s side. “It didn’t help, in Columbus. Maybe it… I don’t know. Do you think.” He stops. 

“God, I don’t think I want to know if the answer isn’t yes,” Kurt breaths. “You saw his face. Surely he does. That wasn’t.”

“But he might not,” Noah forces himself to say. “Not the same way we do.” There’s a dull ache in Noah’s chest at the thought, and he kisses Kurt almost desperately, trying to make it stop hurting. “We’ll have to wait and find out.”

Kurt rolls them over, his hand on Noah’s cock. “Fuck, baby. Tell me. Tell me what we’d do.”

Noah’s breath catches as he understands what Kurt means, and he thrusts up into Kurt’s hand. “Make him leave the locker room without a shower,” Noah says, “bring him back here as fast as we can get here. Maybe a cab.”

“Yes,” Kurt hisses, and Noah watches one hand grope for the lube. “Strip him down so we’re all naked, lie down on the futon—”

“—spread between us,” Noah continues. Two of Kurt’s fingers push into him, moving fast. “Just like you said, one of us on the right, one on the the left. One of us kissing him, one of us biting at his nipples.”

“Just like he likes,” Kurt giggles, moving his fingers out of Noah and replacing them with his cock. “Are we going to fuck him?”

“Yes,” Noah answers, gasping a little as he moves his legs up, rocking to meet Kurt’s thrusts. “You inside him and him inside me, and both of you with your hands on my cock.”

“Oh god yes, Puck,” Kurt breathes, moving faster. “All three of us, coming together.”

“Pounding so hard, hands everywhere,” Noah responds as Kurt’s hand moves rapidly up and down his cock. 

Kurt’s throat hums and his speed increases. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he manages before Noah can feel him coming, and Noah rocks against Kurt twice more before he comes.

Neither of them say anything for a few minutes, collapsing heavily on each other, entwined. “Baby?” Kurt says finally. “Did we just…?”

Noah laughs shakily. “Yeah, we did.”

“It really wasn’t just a summer thing.”

“No.” Noah sighs and breathes in, his nose buried in Kurt’s neck. “It wasn’t. But it’s not— it _can’t_ be an everyday thing, either.”

“No. He can’t get in a cab or climb on a bus after a game and be here in twenty minutes or even an hour.” Kurt takes a shaky breath. “Something in-between, maybe.”

“If he still wants it. Us.”

“It’s still a month before we see him,” Kurt points out. 

“Thirty-one days, according to the calendar.”

“Thirty-one,” Kurt repeats. “What’s another month after three?” he says, sounding almost strangled. 

“And then another month after that.” Noah sighs. “We have to get dressed soon, blue eyes.”

“Stupid social outings.” Kurt sighs. “I know. Okay. Thirty-one days.”


	3. Degrees of Serious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ruptured appendix, a seven-week 'relationship', and who he's supposed to call first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our continued thanks to david_of_oz for his editorial genius and to separatrix for being our first set of eyes.

Finn’s making sure his phone is charged and mentally going over his homework for the following Monday when The Doug comes barreling into the room like his ass is on fire. Granted, The Doug’s so huge that even his normal walking kind of comes across as barreling, but dude’s got some serious hustle going on.

Before Finn even has a chance to say hey or whatever, Doug blurts out, “You heard about Jensen?” 

“No,” Finn says, because he hasn’t. “What about him?”

“Puking his guts out. Coach made Marks take him down to the E.R.” Doug sits down on the futon, which tips slightly up onto one set of legs. “I saw him. He looks like shit.”

“Maybe he ate something bad,” Finn says. “He could still be fine by game time.”

“He could, I guess,” Doug says, but he doesn’t look like he actually believes it. “Maybe you oughta…”

“Uh-uh. No way, dude,” Finn says, putting his hands and waving them slightly. “We’re not even gonna go there. Jensen’ll be fine and even if he’s not, that doesn’t mean anything for me. It’ll be Brant or it’ll be Tyche.”

“I don’t know, Hudson. You’re not redshirted, so it could be you as much as it could be anybody else. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” 

“My whole fucking life is wait and see,” Finn mutters to himself. Doug raises his eyebrows inquiringly, and Finn shakes his head. “Nothing. Just talking to myself. Seriously, I’m not getting myself worked up over it.”

 

A couple hours later, though, they’re all in the locker room, except for Jensen. Marks won’t say anything about what the doctors said, but he doesn’t look happy at all. Finn knows a worried face when he sees one, and Marks looks like he might stroke out or something, and every time somebody asks him where Jensen is or how he’s doing, Marks just waves his hand like he can’t or won’t answer. 

Jamie sits down next to Finn on the bench, and says, almost casually, “Jensen’s still not here.”

“Nope,” Finn agrees.

“I don’t think he’s gonna make it,” Jamie continues.

“Still an hour forty-five until the game,” Finn points out. “He’s got time.”

“I heard Coach Burke’s over at the hospital with him, man,” Jamie says. “I think it’s pretty serious.”

“It’s not serious until somebody tells us it’s serious,” Finn says firmly. He thinks about texting Puck and telling him. He got four or five texts from them that week they saw his back on the tv for a couple of seconds, though, and there’s no point in getting them worked up over something that’s probably not going to happen, either. 

Another forty-five minutes pass before Coach Meredith walks into the locker room, which goes almost instantly silent. Nobody’s even shuffling feet around or coughing, and Marks looks like he’s actually _already_ stroked out and probably needs, like, massive occupational therapy or something to recover from it.

“I have some bad news,” Coach Meredith begins, and Finn would say that gets everybody’s attention, except he’s pretty sure Coach already has everybody’s full attention. “Jensen’s got a bad case of appendicitis. His appendix ruptured and they’re doing emergency surgery. We’ll pass along more information when we have it, but until then, don’t talk to the media without one of the coaching staff present. We’re already under communications blackout and this doesn’t change that. Got it?”

Finn and the other players nod, a few of them also mumbling “yes, Coach” or “yessir.” Once he has their collective agreement, Coach Meredith walks back out of the locker room, leaving everybody looking confused. A couple of the guys take the opportunity to start grilling Marks, but Jamie just turns back to Finn, shaking his head.

“Ruptured appendix isn’t something to fool around with,” Jamie says. “That’s serious.”

“Yeah,” Finn answers. “I hope he’s gonna be ok. That’s scary.”

“So… who do you think Coach is going to put in?” Jamie asks, lowering his voice. 

Finn shrugs, like it’s not a big deal or anything. “Brant, probably.”

“I don’t know, Hudson. Brant’s been phoning it in at practice.”

“Tyche, then,” Finn says, with another shrug.

“Or you,” Jamie says pointedly.

“Nope. Won’t be me, dude.” 

“Could be you, is all I’m saying,” Jamie says. “Stranger things have happened. Clyde likes you. I’m just saying, don’t be too surprised.”

Finn rolls his eyes and finishes getting his gear on. Another thirty minutes pass before Coach Clyde walks into the locker room and says, “Hudson, you’re up.”

Finn can’t process right away what Coach Clyde means, so he says, “Up for what?” which makes Jamie start laughing next to him. “Oh. Oh! Yeah, ok, got it, Coach!”

“Told you!” Jamie says, once Coach Clyde walks out. 

“Shit,” Finn says, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, trying to slow his heart down. “Oh, shit! I can’t believe it.”

“Well, you’ve got thirty minutes to start believing it,” Jamie says. “So, if I were you, I’d get right on that!”

“Holy shit!” Finn shakes his head. “I’ve gotta call Kurt!”

“Communications blackout, Hudson. No phones,” Jamie points out. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be calling your mom, not your brother?”

Finn probably looks at Jamie like he’s crazy, because that’s what goes through Finn’s head for a split second before he remembers that yeah, calling his mom is probably the normal thing to do, and he has to remember to call her _first_ after the game is over. There’s an order he’s supposed to do this in, he’s pretty sure. Mom first, then Theresa probably, and only _then_ is it ok to call Kurt and Puck. No reason to do it any other way. No reason at all.

“Hudson? _Hudson_?” 

Finn shakes his head and looks at Jamie. “Sorry. Little overwhelmed, I guess.”

“Time to snap out of it and get out there,” Jamie says. He gives Finn a big grin. “Don’t worry about it. You’re going to do fine.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” Finn says, sighing loudly.

“Hey, I’m at least sure you won’t screw up too badly, and that’s something, at least,” Jamie says, patting Finn on the shoulder sympathetically. “Come on.”

“Yeah. Yeah, ok. Let’s do this thing.”

 

As it happens, Finn doesn’t screw up too badly, and after the game, he’s bounced around through a couple of places before he finds himself planted at a table for the post-game press conference. The coaches answer some questions about Jensen and the game, and a few reporters ask Finn some questions, too. Honestly, he’s not even sure what he’s being asked most of the time, let alone what he’s answering; he just hopes he doesn’t sound too stupid or say anything too embarrassing for the team. 

For reasons that Finn isn’t letting himself acknowledge, all he can think about is whether or not Puck and Kurt saw the game, and what they thought about it, and what he’s going to say to them when he talks to them. He knows he needs to call his mom. He knows he should call Theresa, figure out where they’re meeting up after the game, but what Finn really wants is to go back to his room and hop on FaceTime and talk to _them_ , not anybody else.

When Finn’s finally back in the locker room, and has grinned in response to all the back pats and both distributed and received all the necessary praise, he changes out of his uniform and takes a quick shower. After he’s dressed in his regular clothes, he pulls out his phone: thirteen voicemails and thirty-seven texts. Most of the texts are from Burt, who apparently felt the need to text him after every single play, so Finn just texts back, “Yeah, I’ll call you guys later!” and then listens to his voicemails. 

He skips the first few messages, which are from his mom, Burt, Theresa, his mom again, and Theresa again, but then he hears Kurt and Puck’s voices chorusing together. Finn smiles hugely and listens to the whole message, then replays it, then replays it again. He’s listening to it a fourth time when he looks up and Jamie and The Doug are standing there. 

“Lot of messages?” Doug asks. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” Finn says, his smile not wavering. He can still hear Kurt and Puck’s voices, the phone still pressed to his ear, and it makes him happier than it has a right to. “I think Burt’s gonna literally explode if I don’t call him and mom and walk him through every single second of the game.”

“You heading anywhere specific?” Jamie asks. “Seeing Theresa?”

Finn shrugs. “Haven’t talked to her yet. Maybe.” He _should_ call Theresa and plan to go out to a party or whatever. It’s just that he doesn’t particularly want to for some reason. He wants to celebrate, just not… Well, he’ll start making his phone calls when he leaves the locker room, anyway, he’ll figure it out from there. “Once I figure out where I’m gonna be, I’ll text you guys. You do the same?”

Jamie nods, and Doug says, “Alright, Hudson. We’ll see you later. Good game.”

“Yeah, dude, good game,” Finn agrees. He throws his bag over his shoulder. “Guess I better start making my calls,” he says, holding up his phone to drive the point home. Jamie and Doug head off, and a few minutes later, Finn tries to slip out of the locker room without anybody noticing him. He’s not successful at that at all, though, and has to return some high fives and brofists, dodge some clingy girls, and duck underneath a microphone that may or may not be affiliated with the school paper or news channel or something.

When he’s finally disentangled himself from everyone, Finn pulls out his phone and only hesitates for a second before pressing his thumb to the contact he really wants to dial. Fuck the order of ‘should calls’; he just played in his first college game and they _won_ , and he’s calling the people he really wants to talk to first. 

The phone rings four times, and Finn’s sure the call is going to voicemail, when Kurt answers, sounding a little out of breath. “Hi! Hang on!” There’s a slight pause before he starts to speak again. “Okay, now you’re on speaker.”

“Hey,” Puck says a second later. 

Finn grins to himself and then asks, all nonchalantly, “So, what have you guys been up to today?”

“Oh, drinking a couple of free beers,” Puck answers. 

“Walked across the park,” Kurt chimes in. “You?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Did some homework, took a shower, played a football game,” Finn says. “Nothing much.” A few people try to get Finn’s attention while he’s walking to his dorm, but he just waves at them and keeps walking. 

“We did hear something about a football game,” Kurt says, almost laughing. “Saw it, too.”

“Yeah? Was it any good?” Finn elbows the door to his dorm open. “I didn’t really get a chance to watch it this week.”

“Watched half of it, didn’t you?” Puck answers, and by now, he is laughing. 

Finn laughs, too, and admits, “I think I was in too much shock to pay that much attention.”

“We did wonder how much warning you had,” Kurt says wryly. “They announced it about half an hour before the game.”

“About that much,” Finn says. He unlocks his door, lets himself into the dorm, and then locks the door behind him. “Holy _shit_ , you guys!”

Puck laughs. “That’s pretty much what K said. ‘Holy shit!’”

“I think we scared Winston, actually.” Kurt sounds smug. “But then he gave us free beer, so.”

“Awesome! I didn’t get any free beer,” Finn says, kicking off his shoes and throwing himself onto his bed. “I mean, I guess I might get some later.”

Puck snorts. “Yeah, you probably will, if you want it.”

“I don’t think I’m allowed to go look for beer until I return all these calls, though,” Finn says. “Burt and mom called me like a dozen times or something, and if I don’t call them back soon, I think they might send the National Guard to look for me!”

“Did you get the play-by-play texts, too?” Kurt asks. 

“Yeah, I didn’t read them all. I think he might have left some play-by-play voicemails, too, but I didn’t listen to them. Figured I’d have to hear it all again when I called, right?” Finn grins up at his ceiling. “So… it didn’t suck?”

Kurt laughs for a moment. “No, it didn’t suck.”

“Granted, people might’ve been trying to suck up,” Puck interjects, “but seriously good comments at the bar, too.”

Finn’s grin gets even wider and his heart feels warm and happy. “Well, as long as you guys say it didn’t suck.” He sighs. “I probably need to return some of these other calls, though. You think you might be up for FaceTime later? If it’s not too late?”

“We’ve got a dinner thing in just a few, but we should be home by— 8:30?” Puck guesses.

“So if I FaceTime you guys at nine, then, that’d be cool?”

“Nine’s perfect,” Kurt agrees. “Go address your adoring public.”

“More like my adoring Burt, but yeah, I should do that.” Finn pauses, because this is the part where he’s never really sure what he’s supposed to say. “I— I’ll, uh. Talk to you later. Ok?”

“At nine,” Puck confirms, and there’s a half second too long before the two of them say “Bye!” in unison and the call ends. 

Finn sets the phone down on his chest and closes his eyes. It should be easier by now, but it really isn’t. No matter how normal the phone call feels, the end’s always awkward and weird, and no matter what Finn says, it feels like it’s the wrong thing. Finn takes a deep breath and dials Burt’s number, because he can talk to both his mom and Burt that way, and it’ll thrill Burt to get to him first.

Sure enough, Burt answers on the second ring with an enthusiastic, “Finn! You played tonight!”

“Yeah, Dad. I sure did.”

 

Finn finishes talking to Burt, then his mom, then ‘talks’ to Aud for thirty seconds or so, which mainly just means he says “Hi Aud, hey Aud! I love you!” because she’s a tiny baby and has no idea what a phone is. When he’s done, he returns a few texts, including one from Syd about meeting at the Library—the cafe, not the actual library-library—before calling Theresa and telling her when and where to meet him.

Doug texts Finn right as he’s about to leave the dorm to let him know they’ll be out at Pike House later, which sounds like as good a place as any to get a celebratory beer or three. He can eat, they can all go to the party for a while, and he can cut out around 8:30 and be back to his dorm in time to FaceTime by nine. 

Theresa’s waiting outside the Library with Syd and Syd’s flavor–of–the–week—Clara? Tara? Finn can’t keep track and doesn’t really make an effort to try—and Theresa looks _pissed_. Finn leans over to give her a kiss, but she turns her face to the side, nostrils flaring in that way that sort of uncomfortably reminds him of Quinn. 

“I didn’t know Syd was meeting us,” Theresa says quietly. 

“Syd always meets us when we eat at the Library.”

“I just thought we might be… _celebrating_.” Theresa offers Syd a polite smile. Finn thinks it’s pretty lucky for Theresa that she’s talking too quietly for Syd to hear, because, well. She’s _Syd_.

Finn looks at Theresa for a moment, trying to figure out what the problem is, but he can’t put his finger on it. “We can celebrate later. We’ll go to the Pike party, have a drink. It’ll be cool, ok?”

“ _Fine_ ,” Theresa sighs. “It would be nice if we could go out without Syd after a game. She already gets you every Tuesday and Thursday for lunch.”

“But I like Syd,” Finn tries to explain. “She’s… Syd.”

The repetition of Syd’s name apparently gets her attention, because she walks over to Finn, flavor–of–the–week trailing along behind her. 

“You’d think you could hustle to the food a little faster, Hudson,” Syd says with a shake of her head. “Making all these ladies wait.”

“Only two ladies. One Syd,” Finn says. “I had to return some calls. Dad texted me about five million times, so I had to call him and my mom and I had to talk to Aud. And, uh. My brothers.” 

Theresa makes a little noise that would probably be called a snort if a dude made it, but probably Finn’s not supposed to say it’s a snort when it’s the girl he’s dating. He’s pretty sure he hears her mutter, “Of course. The brothers,” but she doesn’t say it loudly enough that he has to actually say anything back to her about it, which is good. It’s a dumb fight and he’s not having it again.

“I’d hit you, but I wasn’t including myself anyway,” Syd shrugs. “I put us down on the list.” She grins. “Hudson, party of four.”

“Sweet!” Finn turns to Syd’s flavor–of–the–week. “Hey, uh… Clara?”

“Sierra. Like the Mist!” 

Even Syd turns and looks at her— _Sierra_ , apparently—like she’s an idiot, which makes Finn feel a little bit better about the look he’s probably giving her. “Right, Sierra,” Finn says. “Like the Mist.”

“Are we going in soon?” Theresa asks. “I’m hungry. I _thought_ we’d be eating a little earlier.”

“I had to make my calls,” Finn explains, but Theresa just presses her lips together into a thin line and looks even more pissed. “People were excited.”

“And you’re here now,” Syd says, a little too brightly. “So why were people excited again, Hudson? Because you can throw around an irregularly shaped object?”

“No, it was just a regular old football, Syd. Just football–shaped.”

“Which, by definition, is irregularly shaped.” 

“No, Syd. It’s symmetrical, remember? Puck says that means it’s not irregular,” Finn says. “I asked him.”

Syd rolls her eyes. “Not mathematically irregular. Just irregular. And I still think you make them say whatever you want them to say, just to counter my arguments.” 

“I keep telling you that you can call them,” Finn points out. “They’d talk to you. Well, Puck would, at least. He’d answer all your questions!”

“Mmm-hmm.” Syd grins at him. “I’m sure.”

“Puck likes you. Well, he likes what he hears about you. He calls you my Famous Syd.”

“It’s good _someone_ recognizes that I should be famous,” Syd responds as one of the servers comes to the door and announces that the table for Hudson, party of four, is ready. 

“Wow!” Finn shakes his head. “I’ve never seen the wait time so short on a Saturday. Did you get here really early and put my name on the list?” Syd gives him a strange look and shakes her head slowly. “What?” he asks. 

“Don’t change, Hudson,” Syd says with another shake of her head and a short laugh. 

Theresa takes Finn’s arm, and he leans over and whispers, “Change what?”

“Oh, lord,” Theresa sighs and looks slightly embarrassed. “Really, Finn?”

“What?” Finn asks. “ _What?_ ”

 

After dinner, Finn invites Syd and Sierra–like–the–Mist to come with them to Pike House, but apparently they have some place else to be. Finn doesn’t know if that’s a ‘we’re going home to have ladysex’ some place to be, or if it’s a ‘Theresa keeps shooting eye–daggers at us and we aren’t really welcome at that party’ place to be. Maybe some of both.

“Why were you acting like that?” Finn asks Theresa, while they’re walking back to campus, headed in the direction of Pike House.

“Acting like what?” She has that tone, though, that makes Finn think she probably has some idea what he’s talking about.

“Why were you acting like that to Syd? She didn’t do anything,” Finn says. “I’m the one who decided we should meet her for dinner. You should be mad at me, not her.”

“I’m not mad at anyone, I just wish we could have gone out, just the two of us,” Theresa says. She starts walking a little faster. “Not us plus Syd.”

“She’s my friend and she was excited for me. We’ve been out just the two of us a bunch, so I didn’t think it would be a problem,” Finn explains. “Jesus, Theresa, I mean… I’m not gonna _not_ see my friends.” 

“You see her for lunch twice a week. You see her at the QSA meetings. You hang out with those GreenHouse lesbians _all the time_.” Now Theresa’s really walking fast, and Finn has to actually increase his speed to keep up with her. “If you aren’t with the team or on the phone with your brothers—who I’m still pretty sure you haven’t mentioned me to, by the way—you’re out somewhere with Syd.”

“We go out at least once a week, Theresa. We had dinner last week, just us, and I even booted Jamie and The Doug so we could watch a movie without anybody bothering us,” Finn says. He doesn’t acknowledge the thing about not mentioning her to Kurt and Puck, because well, that’s true; he hasn’t. “I can’t spend every single minute with just you. This isn’t like that. I have a whole rest of my life here.”

Theresa stops so abruptly that Finn almost runs into her, and spins to face him. “You know,” she begins, “the first time I went out with you, Laurie and Jen warned me not to get too attached. They told me, oh, Finn Hudson, he never takes you out more than twice. Such a gentleman, sweet as can be, but don’t expect a third date. He’s not a guy looking for a commitment.” Finn winces a little, but nods, because it’s not untrue, any of it. “But then you asked me out on a third date,” Theresa continues. “And then a fourth one, and I thought, wow, they were wrong about you.”

“Theresa, come on, I—”

“Only, they _weren’t_ wrong about you, were there?” Theresa asks. “I mean, sure, we’ve been seeing each other for, what? Seven weeks?”

“I said at the very beginning I wasn’t looking for anything serious,” Finn says. “I said that.”

“Yes, you did, and then you kept taking me out, and we kept sleeping together, and you introduced me to all your friends,” Theresa says. “Seven weeks of that. That kind of looks a little bit like serious, Finn.”

“Look I—”

“But you were telling the truth. It isn’t serious for you, is it?” she asks. “I mean, it’s… a routine now, I guess? It’s probably easier to take the same girl out, because you don’t have to keep learning new things about new people, but it’s not any more serious than any of those girls you only took out twice, is it?”

Finn doesn’t answer right away, partly because he doesn’t even know for sure if she’s right, and partly because if she is right and he agrees, she’s going to be really upset and _that_ isn’t going to be fun for either of them. Finally, he answers, slowly, “I like you, Theresa. But I really did mean it. I can’t do serious. Not now.”

Theresa shakes her head slowly and looks almost sorry for him. “What the hell did she do to you?”

“What did— who? Syd?” Finn asks. “Syd didn’t do anything to me.”

“Whatever girl it was back in Ohio who broke your heart. She sure screwed you up,” Theresa says bitterly. “Not that I’d know anything about her, because of that little ‘don’t talk about home’ policy of yours, which doesn’t stop you from talking to people _from_ home constantly. Not about me, of course, since this isn’t serious.”

Finn slowly nods his head. “Look, I…” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, shifting his weight from foot to foot while he tries to put together an explanation that’s true, but not too true. All he can come up with is, “I thought it was love, but now I think maybe it was only that kind of love for _me_. I don’t even have words for how much that sucked. And I won’t— I _can’t_ do that again. Not now and maybe not ever. I was serious about not being serious. If you don’t like that, then…”

“Yes, I understand,” Theresa says. The look of pity on her face deepens, which sort of softens the pissed-off look a little. “Finn, I’ve had a really great time the last two months, but I _do_ want serious, and that’s obviously something I’m not going to get from you.” 

“Theresa, I’m sorry,” Finn says. “I really am.”

“I’m sure you are. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to what you told me at the beginning, I guess,” Theresa sighs. “I’m going to go back to my dorm now. You go meet the guys at Pike House. I’ll see you at Singers rehearsal.”

She doesn’t give him a chance to answer or anything. She just turns and walks in the opposite direction. Finn knows he’s probably supposed to call or chase after her, or at least feel crushed or even a little bit upset, but he doesn’t. Not really at all. He keeps walking in the direction of Pike House, because he can still get in a few drinks before he heads back to his dorm to FaceTime with Puck and Kurt. Maybe talking about the game won’t feel so awkward, and he won’t have to come up with a reason to end the conversation early.


	4. Aim to Misbehave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the liquor flows freely.

A month into his first semester at Mannes, Rina calls and asks him what’s surprised him about college the most so far. 

“Besides the fact that I’m attending it?” Noah jokes back. “Nah, I didn’t expect all the overlapping. Outside of classes, you’d think all the college students in Manhattan attended the same school.”

It’s true, too; every single Jewish student, and a few non-Jewish boyfriends and girlfriends, attend NYU’s Jewish group’s weekly dinner, because it’s a free meal. Kurt’s gone with Noah a few times, remaining quiet about his atheism, and even the ultra-Orthodox kids don’t bat an eye at the gay couples there. Noah’s been to the LGBTQ support group for the New School, the one at Marymount Manhattan, the one at Juilliard, and the one at Columbia. Between he and Kurt, without counting Rachel, they’ve met people from seven different universities. 

The problem isn’t finding something to do, it’s deciding which things to prioritize. 

Which is why they stare at the calendar on October 27, trying to decide where to go after the Wisconsin game. 

“Finn’s supposed to be playing,” Kurt points out. “So if they win, we should go somewhere celebratory.”

“And if they lose, we should go somewhere with alcohol readily available?” Noah says, not quite joking. 

“Are they supposed to beat Michigan State?” Kurt asks, leaning back against Noah’s chest as they look at the calendar on Kurt’s iPad. 

“They’ve won the last three out of four,” Noah points out, “but Michigan State’s going to bring their best, too. I’d say Wisconsin has the edge, but not by a huge amount.”

Kurt nods slowly. “Well, alcohol’s up in Morningside Heights. Celebratory atmosphere’s near NYU. Neither one’s close to Mad River. Zachary’ll be near NYU. I think V2 was going to Morningside Heights, though. Every time she has a drink she posts it on Facebook. I do think she’s just waiting for her parents to find out and be scandalized.”

“Yeah, pretty sure you’re right,” Noah laughs. “Allison hadn’t decided what she was doing tonight, and Ben said he was only going out if he finished his assignment for comp first.”

“Knowing Ben, then…” Kurt trails off and shakes his head. “Poor Ben. Either way, we’ll have time to call Finn on the train after the game.”

“Did you tell Burt to tweet the game this time?” Noah laughs. “Instead of texting?”

Kurt nods. “I helped him set up a brand new account and explained trending and the hashtags. He wants to get ‘Number Eleven’ or ‘Hudson’ trending during the game, apparently. He has managed to acquire over a hundred followers already.” 

“How’d he do that?”

“I may have helped with that, too,” Kurt admits. “I made several starter tweets for him, DM’d some likely candidates, and asked for retweets. If he manages to entertain during the game, I’m sure the numbers will go up. If they’re bored, well.”

“Hundred to zero in less than six hours,” Noah chuckles. 

 

The game is closer, Kurt is pretty sure, and the atmosphere inside Mad River is decidedly less jovial. It's comparable to the week that they played—and lost to—Nebraska, even though the score is not nearly as lopsided and Wisconsin does appear to still have its head in the game, or so everyone says. 

A few of the older guys spend the commercial breaks telling Kurt how, if Finn can lead them to a win over Michigan State, the Badgers are almost certain to continue starting him for the remainder of the season. The unspoken corollary, of course, is that if Finn _doesn't_ produce a winning game, he might not start in another game this season, period. Kurt wonders if it could even have an impact on Finn's prospects in future seasons, which seems somewhat unfair to Kurt's way of thinking. 

All of which leads to Kurt's conclusion, about halfway through the fourth quarter, that perhaps he should make more of an effort to understand the rest of football, and also find something better to do with his nerves than bounce his leg up and down repeatedly. The Badgers are so close to winning, just two points behind Michigan State, and Kurt concludes that watching Finn play football may, in fact, be dangerous to his continued well-being due to elevated stress levels. 

"They've got a bye week next week," Noah murmurs against Kurt's ear. "He's doing good. Losing doesn't have to mean anything." 

"Convincing me or convincing yourself?" Kurt asks, raising an eyebrow, and Noah just smiles wryly. "Maybe you should distract me instead," Kurt continues, running his fingers along the back of Noah's neck. "If something spectacular happens, I'm sure they'll repl—"

Kurt doesn't finish the sentence before the announcer yells "Holy cow, look at that throw!" and there's a huge cheer inside the bar and from the television. Noah and Kurt both whip their heads towards the screen, already starting to laugh, because of course there was something happening at the moment they stopped paying attention. 

"And that's a forty-yard connection for Hudson, straight into the end zone! With just five minutes and change left on the clock, this could be the play of the game."

"If you're Meredith on the sidelines, do you have the Badgers go for the extra two points, or play it safe with one?"

"You're up by six with the two points – two field goals or a touchdown with no extra points. Gotta take that risk and go for two, especially with a motivated freshman at quarterback," the first commentator responds. 

"I agree, I agree. Hudson's stepped up his game in this second half, and I think if it were up to him alone, there's no way the two points wouldn't be secured." The commentator pauses. "And they are lining up to go for two. Here's the snap and – I guess Hudson decided it _is_ up to him! He looked for his receivers, found them covered, he's scrambling, and. Yes! Two points, Badgers are up by six with four fifty-six on the clock."

With that, the game cuts to a commercial break, and low-level chatter in the bar explodes once more. 

"You two talked to Hudson since last week?" Winston asks. 

Kurt has to take a moment to understand why Winston would ask. _Of course_ they have. Whatever else they are or have been, Finn's their brother and best friend. _Of course_ they've talked to him. 

He remembers a second later that they've never really explained anything to Winston and the others—and why should they?—beyond brothers, and even brothers close enough to watch the other one on national TV might not mean they're close enough to talk extensively in a week's time. 

The answer, however, is decidedly _yes_ , and Kurt nods alongside Noah even as he smiles wryly. The difficult part isn't talking, it's talking around the thirty-one day countdown (now twenty-four days) until they see Finn in person again, until they can find out if summer was merely a summer thing to Finn. 

"Talked to him briefly last Saturday," Noah answers Winston aloud. "FaceTime on Thursday." A myriad of texts and message, comments on Facebook status, and some tweets, too, yes. No one's figured out, yet, that Finn's twitter is _Finn Hudson, quarterback for the Badgers_ , and for whatever reason, when the Athletic Department had asked if he had twitter, Finn had blurted out a no. '@F_Hudson11' is his official twitter – which lets them all keep his unofficial twitter, to keep up with Finn. 

"Was he nervous?" Kurt rolls his eyes, and Winston laughs. "Okay, dumb question," he acknowledges. "Obviously, not too nervous, anyway."

Noah shakes his head. "They didn't tell him officially that he was starting until yesterday, so he just focused on workouts and practice, you know?"

It's the kind of standard non-answer they've gotten surprisingly good at giving over the course of the week. Is Finn excited? Yes, of course. Was he expecting the news/the spot/whatever? Of course he hopes Jensen makes a rapid recovery. He's just going to give his workouts and practices his all, regardless of his place on the roster. 

"Yeah, yeah," one of the guys nearby says, nodding. "Great attitude. Saw another interview with him on a webcast of something. Seems like a real humble guy."

Kurt _knows_ that the smile on his face is probably a little too fond, and that Noah's smile is equally too fond, but since it's the two of them, maybe they'll merely think that Finn inspires that kind of fondness and loyalty. It might even add to the mystique, because what Kurt's gathered from a week of lurking on sports blogs is that Finn does, apparently, have a mystique. 

The Michigan State Whoevers do not, in fact, manage to rally against Finn and the Badgers, which means that when the clock hits zero, there's another terrifically loud cheer echoing around Mad River. 

"Looks like we're heading to lower Manhattan!" Noah says over the cheers, and Kurt laughs and nods. They don't stay long after the game is over, heading for the door while Winston's still dispensing the first round of Fifth Quarter Specials.

Winston yells as they reach the door. "Tell Hudson the NYC Badgers are all pulling for him!"

 

They walk the few blocks to the 77th St stop, and Noah wraps his arm around Kurt's shoulders, keeping him on the side closest to the buildings. Noah doesn't think of it as particularly cold, yet, but he knows Kurt does, and there's less breeze right next to a wall. 

Noah calls it a breeze, anyway; Kurt would probably call it a ‘biting wind’.

They wait until they're on the 6 train before they call Finn. Just like the week before, it goes to voicemail, and just like the week before, they leave a message regardless.

"It's good to know some things don't change," Noah can't help but joke. "Like how long of a shower you take after a football game. Otherwise, you'd answer this, right?"

"We just left Mad River," Kurt picks up. "Everyone there has only good things to say about your game. Of course, they may be afraid of what we'd do if they said negative things, but we'll ignore that possibility, yes?"

"Don't listen to K, he's still upset he didn't know what a conversion safety was when they started talking about the Packers game last Sunday." Noah smirks at Kurt, who shakes his head and then slowly grins. 

"Very few people knew that rule," Kurt says almost primly. "Regardless, we're going to dinner and then some sort of party where we've been promised an upbeat approach to Halloween. You'll just have to wait for the pictures to see how we're dressed, though."

Noah has to stifle a laugh. They're not actually wearing _any_ costume at the moment; dinner is not a Halloween party, and they'll have to change before the party. Finn's probably picturing something like the shorts from the year before, but Noah's used up his good Halloween ideas for a while, and Kurt had suggested they wait and recycle the Batman and Robin costume in another year or two. 

Noah had agreed, and then Kurt had come up with the best idea _ever_ : Reavers. The make-up is going to be a bitch, Noah figures, but they're going to look incredibly badass. If they're lucky, the pictures alone will scare Finn. 

"You'll have to send your own pictures." Noah smirks, even though the phone can't record that. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do while you celebrate, ’cause that still leaves you a lot of options, d—" Noah catches himself before he can finish the word. It's there, waiting, but he can't use it, not even with Kurt, because they just don't know. 

"And lots of things to eat, too, as it happens," Kurt agrees. "Give us call tomorrow afternoon if you have a chance."

Kurt ends the call, then, and they relax against each other for the rest of the ride to Bleecker St. Dinner ends up being a diner, which makes Noah laugh, and after changing in the diner's bathroom, they get side-tracked on the way to the party by a guy selling his ghost tour tickets because he found out his girlfriend hates ghosts and hates Halloween. 

The guy only wants half of the regular cost for the two tickets, and it starts in just ten minutes, so they shrug, pay for the tickets, and end up going on a ghost tour before going to the Halloween party, which puts them a lot later at the party than they had planned, and neither of them sees anyone they know right away. 

Luckily, that's not really a requirement for a decent party, and it's fun to see if people guess at their costumes or just turn away, grossed out. About an hour into the party, Allison shows up, and Noah gets her to take a few pictures of him and Kurt, to send on to Finn. 

Noah doesn't check his phone again for another thirty minutes or so, and by then Finn's responded with “I aim to misbehave”. Noah and Kurt both laugh, though it's probably an hour later before they look again and find a picture of Finn dressed nominally as a fireman, though the distinguishing feature is the plastic fireman's hat perched on his head. 

Even though they had jokingly said the alcohol would be flowing more in Morningside Heights—and it wasn't untrue—they're both a little tipsy after a few hours, when Zachary blows in, a little bit higher than usual. Sometime after midnight, Allison gets a text from Ben, who's finally finished his comp assignment, and the four of them finish their drinks before heading towards the subway to meet Ben at Big Nick's. 

They take another picture of themselves as they leave Big Nick's, slightly more sober but decidedly more Reaver-ish looking, somehow, the preciseness of the costume and makeup giving way to sweat and the late hour. Kurt types in a message under the picture as they walk home, and he shows the screen to Noah, one eyebrow raised questioningly. 

Before Noah can change his mind, before Kurt can change his, Noah reaches out and hits send, the picture and its caption sent to Madison. 

_Wish you were here._

 

Working on Sundays seemed like such a good plan at the beginning of the semester. 

Kurt will admit that it probably, in fact, still is, but when Noah's alarm goes off at 5 am when they didn't fall into bed until nearly 2 am—and they didn't go to sleep for at least thirty minutes after that, because they're nineteen year old males—it doesn't seem like such a good plan.

But working eight hours each on Sunday mornings means one more shift on Wednesday for both of them, and then Puck works Friday afternoon into the evening while Kurt is mostly in class, and Kurt rounds out his own schedule on Thursday mornings. Their work schedules and their class schedules mesh fine. Their Saturday social life and Sunday morning shifts don't always mesh so well. 

For the first four or five Sunday mornings, Kurt tried to sleep an extra thirty minutes after Noah got up; even though Noah was quiet as he could be and out the door quickly, it didn't quite work, and now Kurt climbs down just a minute or two after Noah does. Sometimes the extra thirty minutes is for homework, occasionally it's a few minutes on the computer, but more often than not, Kurt just leaves when Noah does, gets a coffee from him, and then walks the remaining blocks to the garage. If he gets there five to fifteen minutes early, sometimes it means he can leave five to fifteen minutes before noon, too. 

New York City never sleeps, and there's plenty of twenty-four hour spots even on the Upper West Side, but at 5:50 on a Sunday morning, it's quiet, and there's no light on the horizon yet. Kurt sips his coffee and walks leisurely. If he's awake, he might as well enjoy the moment. He nods to one of the beat cops, then lets himself into the garage, heading for the locker room to put on his uniform before clocking in. 

Sunday mornings are usually slow, unlike Thursday mornings, but there's a few jobs left from overnight, and Kurt stays busy until his break just after nine. After he ducks next door to grab a croissant at the bakery, he sits in one of the chairs outside the bakery and looks at his phone. 

There's an email from one of his study groups, about getting together to watch the musical for Fundamentals of Musical Theatre on Monday or Tuesday evening. Kurt shakes his head and quickly sends back _MONDAY_ , wondering how long it will take before people get that Tuesdays are non-negotiable. 

Then he checks his texts; Noah sent one just after eight, and after Kurt replies, he notices Finn sent one to both him and Noah, probably shortly after they got home last night. It's just a picture, and clearly, by the time the picture was taken, Finn had had several drinks. The fireman's hat is crooked, and he's added mardi gras beads, a lipstick smear on his lower cheek, and a woman's arm around his neck over the course of the evening. Granted, he's making an exaggeratedly sad face, no doubt in response to the last text that Kurt wrote and Noah sent, but. Kurt sighs and moves away from the picture, staring down at his phone. Maybe they were seeing what they wanted to see, back in September; maybe Finn was and is fine with the way things are, instead of the way things were.

 _Saw the picture?_ Noah sends a moment later. 

_I did._ Kurt pauses and looks absently at the street before continuing to type. _I suppose he's more than able to find the free beer_ is what he finally sends back, because they're already both thinking the same things, anyway. There's no point in typing it out. 

 

Noah grabs an Americano and heads for the practice rooms on 65th. From work, they're actually closer than Mannes; from home, it's a toss-up. Either way, he shuts himself in the practice room for an hour with the piano and the whiteboard and manages to get himself ready for his lesson the next afternoon with Tcimpidis before he has to vacate the room. 

Kurt's over at Marymount because of that fucking stagecraft class, which both of them hated by the second week of the semester, and Noah manages to make himself practice contrapuntal dictation before he decides he's as ready as he's going to be for the next day's classes. He pushes everything off the futon and flops onto his back. He should do some work for theory in a little while, so he can get to the fun stuff – orchestration for Wednesday. 

First, though, he's just going to think. Kurt's either getting dinner for both of them or, if he's stuck at Marymount longer, they'll grab dinner on their own. Still, someone needs to actually go grocery shopping, and usually it's easier if Noah does that. Monday evening, usually, too, so he'll plan on that. He runs through the rest of his week in his head and then grabs his iPad, double-checking against his calendar and adding a few things, including the practice room reservations he's made. 

Because he doesn't really want to think about that picture, any more than Kurt probably does, and yet whenever he doesn't stop himself, it keeps popping into his head. There's only so much schoolwork he can do that actually keeps his mind engaged; writing a paper isn't going to help with that at all. 

For all that they might want something different, there's only one reason to think that Finn's not happy with the way things are _now_. Yeah, he and Kurt had admittedly gone into the summer not really expecting it to last beyond the summer, but it was still _Finn_ who didn't kiss them good-bye. It's Finn who has something to lose. And it’s the glimpse of Finn at the airport that really made them even dare to hope. 

All they might be doing is making Finn's life more complicated – and that's _if_ there's anything to even cause complications. Noah has to make himself remember the if, remember the picture from the previous night, because most of the time, he sees the expression on Finn’s face, through the glass wall.


	5. Dances with Lesbians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The safeword is ‘vagina’ (plus a few hose jokes)

“Hudson, I’m saying this one more time,” Jamie calls out from his room. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“It’s a _contest_ , Robins!” Finn says. “A hundred and fifty dollars. Split three ways, that’s still fifty bucks a piece. You can do a lot with fifty bucks!”

“No, I mean this whole party thing. I could be going to Pike or Fiji or Chi O!”

“Yeah, yeah, except Chi O barely puts any booze in their mixed drinks and the girls are all grabby,” Finn shouts back. “Besides, everybody knows the QSA throws the best parties, and Syd will kick our asses if we don’t show up.”

Jamie finally comes out of his room, and his costume does look pretty damn awesome, so Finn can’t tell why he’s complaining. Jamie frowns and says, “You know, she sure does have you by the short hairs for a girl you’re not only not having sex with, but have absolutely no chance of having sex with.”

Finn shakes his head. “But she’s better than a girl I’m having sex with. She’s _Syd_. World’s full of girls to have sex with or whatever, but there’s only one Syd, and she says we’re totally gonna win this costume contest, so quit complaining!”

“Are those pants breakaway?” Jamie asks, raising his eyebrow at Finn and his sorta–fireman costume, which is comprised of a white tank top, a pair of red suspenders, some baggy army pants, a pair of boots, and a plastic fireman hat. 

Finn just laughs and says, “Nah. They look like they should be, though! I think we nailed the whole Public Safety pinup thing. Syd’ll be happy. I just hope her EMT costume holds up to my fireman outfit. And your cop costume.”

“I don’t look like a cop,” Jamie points out. “I look like a stripper moonlighting as a cop.”

“Or a cop who strips for extra cash,” Finn agrees. “We’re gonna win for sure.”

“Guys are going to hit on me tonight, aren’t they?” Jamie asks.

“Absolutely,” Finn says, nodding his head. “Just say ‘I’m straight’ or ‘sorry, I prefer ladyparts’ or something like that. The safeword is ‘vagina’, so if you get in trouble, just shout that really loud and me or Syd’ll come find you,” he adds, laughing. 

“Yeah, that’ll be me, Hudson. Screaming ‘vagina’ through a room full of gay guys.”

“And lesbians and bi people and probably, like, trans people and stuff, too,” Finn says. “And other straight people. That’s what makes it so funny for you to shout it.”

“Best parties, you say?” Jamie asks, looking like he’s decided to give up the argument.

“Famously good. _In_ famously good, even,” Finn assures him. “Just wait and see. Syd showed me pictures from last year and it looks way better than any of the frat parties we’ve been to. Trust me, it’ll be awesome. Anyway, they put real liquor in their drinks.”

“If I’m not shit-faced by ten-thirty, I’m holding you personally responsible,” Jamie says.

“If _I’m_ not shit-faced by ten-thirty, I’m holding myself personally responsible,” Finn agrees. “And Syd, too. Mostly Syd.”

 

Syd’s waiting for them outside the party, probably so they can make an entrance together. Finn holds out his arms and does a little spin like in those fashion show things that Kurt used to watch sometimes.

“Well? Do I make a good Mr. November?” Finn asks.

“November? You’ll do, I suppose,” Syd says wryly. “What is with that hat, Hudson?” She nods at Jamie. “Robins.”

“It’s my fireman hat, Syd. How else are they supposed to know I’m a fireman?” Finn shakes his head. “I didn’t have to get a hose, though. Ask me why?”

“Oh, god.” Syd eyes him suspiciously. “Why, Finn?”

“Because I _already have one_ , Syd!”

Jamie facepalms and groans. “I could be at Chi O, being grabbed by the grabby girls by now. They’re cheap dates, even.”

“More like they aren’t picky,” Syd sniffs. “How desperate do you want to look?”

“Not too desperate to yell ‘vagina’, I guess,” Jamie says. 

Syd pivots, staring at Finn. “What did you tell him about this party, exactly?”

Finn grins at Syd. “That’s the safe word, Syd. If we hear him shout ‘vagina’, it means he’s getting hit on and he can’t make it stop, and one of us should come rescue him.”

Jamie narrows his eyes. “Wait. You didn’t even run that by her first?”

“Nah. I figured we’d touch base when we got here!”

“Don’t worry, Jamie,” Syd says nonchalantly. “As long as you avoid Geoffery, you should be fine.” She pauses. “Oh, and Braden and Christian.” Syd frowns. “Maybe watch out for Timothy, Allen, and Marcus, too, now that I think about it.” She turns to Finn, and there’s a glint of amusement in her eye. “I don’t think he’s really Michael or Joshua’s type, do you?”

“Nope. Too tall for Michael, too short for Joshua,” Finn says, not that he really knows their types, but the look of panic on Jamie’s face is pretty hilarious. And, ok, he kind of _does_ know Joshua’s type, because Joshua hit on him at the first, second, and third QSA meetings, before Syd finally scared him off. “Oh, and Avery. Dude–Avery, not girl–Avery.”

“That’s a _lot_ of people to avoid!” Jamie squawks. “And what do you mean, too short? I’m six foot one!”

Syd grins a little evilly. “You’ll manage, Robins. Anyway, _Finn_ is more Joshua’s type. Sadly for Joshua, Joshua does not appear to be Finn’s type.”

“It’s true,” Finn agrees. “He’s not.”

“Well, Mr. November, Mr…?”

“April,” Jamie says, sort of grudgingly. “I’m Mr. April.”

“Mr. November, Mr. April, would you like to join myself, Mr. July, and enter the party?” Syd sticks her hand into her pocket and pulls out some kind of makeup pencil, which she uses to color in her upper lip, staring at herself in the glass of the door as she does so. She caps the pencil and spins to face them. “Voila!”

“Badass mustache, Syd,” Finn says, grinning at her and offering her a fist to bump. Syd doesn’t even roll her eyes anymore. She shakes her head just slightly and returns the bump before opening the door and holding it open for Finn and Jamie. “You’re such a gentleman!”

Right before they walk in, though, Finn’s phone dings. When he looks at the text from Puck, complete with a picture of the two of them dressed as Reavers from _Firefly_ , he starts to laugh and then hands his phone to Syd.

“Hey, get a picture of my costume so I can send it to Puck,” he says, posing in a fireman–like sort of way. Syd snaps the picture, and Finn says “thanks!” before sending it to Puck. “Ok, _now_ we can go in.”

“You two keep an ear out for that ‘vagina’, okay?” Jamie says. “I’m serious.”

“Don’t say it too much like how Gina says it, though,” Syd warns. “She has a tendency to shout that she’s Gina and she likes ‘ginas, when she’s drunk.”

“Hudson!” Jamie hisses, but Finn just ignores him.

“This is gonna be _awesome_!” Finn says. “Let’s go get a drink!” 

 

A couple of hours into the party, and Finn’s had four or five glasses of some kind of bright blue punch they’re serving out of a bowl shaped like a giant cock and balls—the balls hold the ice and a bunch of extra cups—and now he’s engaged in some sort of very serious conversation with a red-headed lesbian named Jill. They’re mostly talking about football, which apparently she watches, and something about late homoerotics, which he’s not really sure has anything to do with football, since mostly that stuff all happens on time.

“And boom! Again.” Jill laughs, throwing her head back. “It’s so good you still came, Hudson.”

“Yeah, I came! QSA parties are the best,” Finn says. “Syd says so! And Syd, she’d like, she’d totally know that stuff, right?” 

“Even though you’re _starting_ now,” Jill continues, like Finn didn’t really say anything. “Starting quarterback! And you came to party with us!” She stands on her tiptoes and smacks her lips on his cheek. “You remembered your roots, Finn Hudson!”

“I’ve only been here three months,” Finn points out, “but yeah! You guys are great! I love you guys!”

“You’re so sweet!” Jill squeals. “You should slap some butts, too!”

“Yeah, I dunno, I’m still kinda new. Maybe I’ll wait until next year,” Finn says. “I don’t want to, I dunno. Slap the wrong butts or whatever. Right?”

Jill giggles. “Right! Oh! Look! It’s Tanner!” Jill grabs Finn’s forearm and tugs him halfway across the room. “Tanner! Tanner, look who I found! Finn Hudson remembers his roots!”

“Hey,” Finn says. “I’m Finn Hudson. I play football!” He holds out one hand to Tanner, the other still clutching his very, very blue drink. “I have roots!”

Tanner grins. “Hi there, Finn Hudson.” He takes Finn’s hand and pumps it a few times. “Tanner Jackson.” Tanner gives Finn a look that reminds Finn of Miles Brown, for some reason, and he’s suddenly a little self-conscious about his costume.

“Nice to meet you, Tanner,” Finn says. “Did you try the blue stuff? It’s… really blue!”

“Yeah, it is!” Tanner agrees, still grinning. “I had a cup earlier. So you enjoying yourself here?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, having a great time! I think we’re totally gonna win that contest at midnight! Syd’s idea was so great!”

“It’s getting close to midnight,” Tanner says. “After you win, maybe you’ll want to celebrate?”

“Huh?” Finn just shakes his head at Tanner. “We’re already celebrating! It’s a party! We kicked Michigan’s _ass_ all the way back to their mitten.”

Tanner grins hugely and claps Finn’s shoulder a few times. “Yeah, you did, didn’t you?” he agrees. “But there’s some less public ways to celebrate, right, Hudson?”

That’s about the point where Finn figures out he’s being hit on. “Oh. Ohhhh, yeah, I, uh. I’m here with Syd!”

“Yeah, Syd’s a nice _lesbian_ ,” Tanner says with a wink. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Won’t tell them what?” Finn asks. “I think everybody knows that Syd’s a lesbian.” Somebody at the back of the room grabs a microphone and starts announcing the start of the costume contest, so Finn says, “Oops, I better go find Syd and Jamie. Nice to meet you, Tanner!” Finn looks around for Jill, but she’s vanished some place. 

“You are adorable,” Tanner says with a smile. “Good luck in the contest!”

“Thanks! You better cheer for us!” Finn grins back at Tanner. “We’re Public Safety pin up calendar boys.”

“Don’t forget to inspect your hose regularly!” Tanner tosses over his shoulder, heading back towards the refreshments.

“Yeah, ok, I’ll do that,” Finn mutters to himself as he wades through the crowd in search of Syd or Jamie or both of them. Syd turns out to be easier to spot, even though she’s short, because she’s up on a step stool re-attaching one of the decorations, bitching really loudly about how she’s gonna fall off the step stool and _die_. Which, it sounds funny at first, but Finn wouldn’t want to be up on a step stool right now, so she might have a point, if she’s had enough of the blue drink.

“Hey, Syd!” Finn calls to her. “Don’t fall off the stool, ok?”

“Yes, that was my plan, Hudson!” Syd yells back. “Come catch me! Or I’ll sue you. In six years.”

“Sure, just let me, uh.” Finn looks around for a place to set his drink, but then he remembers that Kurt warned him to never leave his drink unattended at a party, so he just quickly drinks the rest of it and puts the empty cup on the floor. “Here, I’ve got you,” he says, holding out his arms. 

Syd grins and launches herself off the step stool. “What are all of you looking at?” she yells at the people nearby. “Haven’t you seen two men together before?”

Finn spins Syd in a slow circle before setting her down. “They don’t understand why your mustache is growing in so much nicer than mine. It’s the hormones in the chicken,” he shouts in the same direction. 

“If you just bought that.” Syd frowns. “Nevermind. Where’s my cup?”

“You should never leave your drink unattended at a party,” Finn says, frowning. “Seriously. Kurt told me. Actually, he told me about ten times. I think he read an article about it or something.”

Syd giggles, even though usually she doesn’t actually giggle. “It was under the step stool. Only someone _really_ short could’ve gotten to it.”

“So, like, pretty much everybody here?” Finn says. “Have you seen Jamie? It’s contest time and we aren’t a very good calendar with just November and… July, right? You’re July.”

“I am Mr. July!” Syd agrees. “Hey, Mr. April!” she calls. “Mr. April! We have to go win now!”

Jamie comes staggering out of the crowd, so Finn guesses he managed to get shit-faced enough to be happy. “I think I lost my cuffs somewhere,” Jamie announces. “Or rather, I think I ended up with the wrong set of cuffs, so I think I swapped them with somebody.” He holds up a pair of cuffs, and sure enough, they’re not the right ones, because Finn’s pretty sure that the ones Jamie brought with him to the party weren’t lined in pink fake fur.

“Ooh, that’s your color, Mr. April!” Syd says happily, grabbing Jamie’s forearm and then Finn’s, tugging them towards the contest assembly point. The other groups all look pretty awesome, too. There’s a group dressed like the Avengers, only with armor made out of, like, plastic buckets and pop cans and whatever. One couple might be the President and First Lady, and a group of dudes is dressed like the English girl band Finn’s mom used to like, the one where they’re all called Spice–something. There’s also a pair of guys in short sleeve white dress shirts and neckties and nametags, but Finn’s not sure what they’re supposed to be. Mattress salesmen, maybe.

“Yeah, ours are totally the best,” Finn says, nodding to himself. “Hey, Jamie, you’ve gotta remember to pose when we get up there. It only works if you pose.”

“I’ll do my best. I haven’t actually seen any real life pin up calendars, you understand,” Jamie says. “At least, not the variety with guys, and I don’t think I can pull off most of those poses in the ones I _did_ see.”

“You don’t have enough boobs?” Finn asks him.

“Exactly.”

“Syd’s got boobs. Hey, Syd? You want to do the boob pose?” Finn asks, turning to Syd. 

“I have boobs?” Syd pulls her shirt away from her chest and peers down. “Well, they’re trying very hard to be boobs. What’s that you say to people trying hard?” She shrugs. “Ooh, we’re next!” She lets her shirt go, which may or may not help with the voting.

“Brave little boob soldiers, trying so hard,” Finn snickers. “Alright, you guys. You’ve gotta, like, _work it_ or whatever. Think calendar!”

Finn and Syd do passable pin up poses, Finn thinks, but Jamie just stands there looking sort of awkward until he seems to remember the handcuffs. Once he does, he dangles them up in the air, looking pleased with himself, and they do get a lot of cheers for that. Not as many as the mattress salesmen, though, for whatever reason, so the three of them end up winning the second place prize instead. It’s not $150 in cash, but it is a $50 gift certificate to Ian’s, and since Finn, Jamie, and Syd all like pizza, they agree that it’s a passable second place prize.

Somewhere in the next hour or so of partying, Finn acquires about a half-dozen strings of Mardi Gras beads of various colors, which look great with his fireman’s costume. Jamie ends up dancing with a lady that Finn’s kind of sure is a drag queen, but Jamie either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, so Finn’s not gonna ruin it for him. 

Finn dances with Syd, and then with Trish, and then with that Jill girl, then Syd’s friend Gina, and then with Syd again, and then he demonstrates how he can throw smallish girls in the air and catch them, which sort of turns into Finn throwing _all_ of them into the air—one at a time, not all at once—until his arms are too tired and he’s afraid he won’t catch the next one. It’s probably the most fun he’s had dancing since prom; it might even be more fun than that, if all he’s comparing is the dancing, not the whole night. 

Finn feels his phone vibrate once in his pocket while he’s at the cock bowl, getting another cup of the magical blue drink. It’s another picture of Puck and Kurt in their costumes, looking like they’ve probably been out partying pretty hard, too. The message along with it says _Wish you were here_. 

Yeah, Finn wishes he was there, too, even if it’s just to drink and wear stupid costumes and see them in person. His little calendar still says there’s twenty-something days or whatever until he flies to see them, and he doesn’t know what’s gonna happen when he does see them, but he misses them so much that it feels like actual, physical pain. 

He drinks his cup of blue drink in one swallow and looks around for Syd and Jamie. Jamie seems to have moved on from his drag queen and is dancing with a few of Syd’s QSA friends. Syd’s got a half–empty cup of blue drink and very pink cheeks, and Finn goes over to stand next to her, leaning forward to tap Jamie on the shoulder.

“Hey, take my picture!” Finn shouts to Jamie, holding up his phone. “C’mere, Syd. Get in the picture with me!”

“Why?” Syd asks, draping her arm around Finn’s neck. “I’m not a ghost!”

“For my brothers. We have to take a picture for my brothers, ok?” Finn says. “Now look very, very sad.” Finn frowns and then looks at Syd and frowns even harder, like cartoon frowning. “Like this, Syd.”

Syd frowns, then giggles before trying to frown again. “Why are we sad?”

“Because we miss them so much and we wish we were there,” Finn explains. He frowns in Jamie’s direction, and there’s a quick flash as Jamie snaps the picture before handing the phone back to Finn. Finn looks at the picture. It’s mostly his frowny face and Syd’s arm, but since Syd wasn’t really doing a good job of frowning, it’ll do. “Thanks,” he tells Jamie, then he sends the picture to both Puck and Kurt’s phones. After a moment or two, he types a short message to them, too, then shoves the phone back in his pocket.

“More drinks?” Jamie asks.

“Definitely more drinks!” Finn agrees. 

 

Finn wakes up in the morning to the sound of his alarm, his head pounding and his mouth tasting like… well, he can’t explain _why_ , but he’d swear it tastes like a Smurf. He takes a quick shower, gets dressed in his workout gear, and throws a few things into his backpack. Lastly, he unplugs his phone from the charger and checks his texts. When he opens up the conversation with Puck and Kurt from the previous night, he realizes he’d typed out a message, but never hit send.

_I miss you guys so much_

Yeah, that’s one of those ‘texts from last night’ kind of message that he’s glad he didn’t remember to send, because he’s not sure he could handle what they might send back to him. Or worse, if he’d sent it and they hadn’t texted back anything at all. Finn sighs and deletes the message, then sticks the phone in the pocket of his backpack and heads out for his Sunday morning workout. 

Twenty-three days.


	6. The Elevens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number 11 and his lesbian cheering section

“What _is_ my life?” Syd mutters to herself, looking around the room at all of them on their laptop, hitting refresh periodically. “I’m missing my Law, Politics, and Society course for this, you know!” she says a little louder. 

Trish laughs, not looking up from her computer. “Of all the things I ever thought we’d be doing together, skipping class on behalf of a guy isn’t one of them.”

“Who doesn’t even know we’re doing it,” Syd laments, shaking her head. “And if he did, he’d do that _thing_ he does. With the doe eyes.”

“He’s sweet. A little vapid, but sweet. Besides, he follows directions well and he has a moderately decent voice,” Trish points out. “He’ll be thrilled when he finds out we were at the game.”

“Why did his high school always have him sing with his ex-girlfriend, anyway?” Syd asks absently, hitting refresh on her own computer and frowning at the ‘Sorry, Badgers Fans! Tickets Will Be Available Shortly!’ message. “That other girl had a good voice too. The Latina.”

“You know his brothers wrote that song? Such a musical family!” Trish clicks again. “Whoo! I’m in!” She starts frantically entering her student ID number and then flipping up a sheet of paper to get Gina’s ID. 

“Oh, I know,” Syd laughs, refreshing for a final time and finally entering her number before typing in Noel’s, as well. “I’ve heard about it a few times.”

“It’s so refreshing to see a man in a stereotypically masculine role—like college football—being openly affectionate about his brothers, you know?” Jill pipes up. “And I was just _sure_ he’d stop coming to the QSA after he was on the starting roster, but I’m glad I was wrong.”

“Do you ever have the feeling that he misses the homosocial bonding, and somehow, we are his surrogate ‘bros’ instead of the team?” Syd says thoughtfully. “I mean, I’ve never met a straight guy who was less titillated by the idea of lesbian sex.”

“It’s refreshing. He’s like a little brother. Or a big brother,” Trish laughs. “A very big little brother, maybe. Even after the thing with Theresa, he was still just as polite and happy at the Singers rehearsals as ever. He’s kind of an idiot, but he’s just so _nice_.”

“Did he bring in all of those pictures of his little sister?” Syd asks. 

Jill looks up again. “He has a sister, too? How old?” 

“She’s just a tiny baby. So sweet!” Trish squeals a little. “There’s one picture of him holding her the day she was born, or maybe the next day, and she fits in _one hand_. Like a little baby football.”

“He FaceTimes with her,” Syd nods. “I don’t know how you FaceTime with a baby, but. Somehow he does. He was so upset the weekend she was born, though. He just barely missed his brothers at the airport.”

“Maybe he thinks she understands him,” Trish offers. “Maybe she does. He and his brothers do seem really close. I can’t keep it straight which one of the brothers writes the music and which one writes the words, though.”

“Puck is the one that writes the music. I think.” Syd shrugs. “Did anyone else need tickets? I have mine and Noel’s.”

“I got mine and Gina’s. I can’t think of anyone else,” Trish says. “We should make signs or something.”

“T-shirts!” Jill suggests. “With his number on them.”

“Hmm. That could work,” Syd nods. “Number eleven and his lesbian cheering section.”

 

“Jill, you’re the football expert,” Syd says through chattering teeth. “Is the open-air experience somehow especially valuable? And is it just me or is our defense not really defending?”

“Valuable to sheep farmers?” Jill shrugs. “And no, it’s not just you.” She sighs and looks at the scoreboard. “That makes it seventeen to three.”

“Hudson’s doing a good job, though, right?” Trish asks. She moves a little closer to Gina, who drapes part of her red fleece blanket over Trish’s lap. “You’d never know he’s the same goofy guy from the Singers, watching him out there. He’s like a completely different Hudson.”

“He’s trying hard,” Jill agrees. “OSU’s defense _is_ actually trying. And the offensive line’s not really doing their job, either.” She pauses and stands up suddenly, yelling. “Stop the blitz!”

“What’s a blitz?” Gina whispers to Trish, and Trish just shrugs and shakes her head. 

“I wish they’d stop trying to tackle him,” Syd grumbles. “He’s tall but they’re really _fat_.”

“They’re not fat,” Jill says. “They’re supposed to be that big. Muscular.”

“Uh-huh.” Syd shakes her head. “They’re really _muscular_ then.”

“No, they’re fat,” Trish says. “Maybe there’s muscle under it, but that guy that knocked him over? Had a gut. A _big_ one.”

“Does his mom watch the games? I bet it upsets her when the huge guys tackle him,” Gina says. 

“No clue about his mom,” Syd admits, “but his brothers watch. There’s some fancy New York City sports bar. Apparently they got free beer the first week he started.”

“See? That’s so nice!” Jill almost gushes. “Oh! Look!” Syd turns her full attention to the field, where Finn’s doing something that’s apparently very good for a quarterback to do, then he throws the ball, which results in a touchdown. “Whoohooo!” Jill yells, jumping up and down, and Syd realizes that might be an excellent way to avoid frostbite, so she joins in. 

“Seventeen to nine. Ten!” she reads the scoreboard. “We can make that up still, right?”

Jill nods, though she doesn’t look totally convinced. “Ooh! And it’s almost time to jump around!”

“I made a sign for jumping around,” Trish says. She fumbles around in her tote bag briefly, and pulls out a rolled up tube of posterboard. She unrolls it and holds it up for Syd, Jill, and Noel to see.

“‘Lesbians Jump Around for Eleven’,” Noel reads. “It’s too long. Next time just put ‘Lezzies for Eleven’.”

“Eleven’s Lezzies!” Jill giggles. “How many football players have a cadre of lesbians cheering for them?”

“How many football players show up to almost every QSA meeting?” Trish counters. 

“I meant across the country!” Jill says with a little sigh as she finally sits down. “They’re not going to finish this drive before the end of the quarter.”

“Sucks for Hudson,” Gina says. “And by the way, I’m keeping the blanket when we jump.”

“Is it going to jump with you?” Syd asks, rubbing her gloved hands together in a mostly–futile attempt to feel warmer. 

“It might. You got a problem with that?”

“Only if it trips me.” Before Syd can say anything else, though, the stadium suddenly quiets down, just before the music starts. “And here we go,” she says, though she doubts anyone can hear her over the music and the sound of all of them jumping in place. It does make her a little warmer, and while it seems to energize Finn and the rest of the offense, it also seems to energize OSU and not the Badger defense. 

OSU scores again in the final quarter, and the Badgers do not, which means it’s their third loss of the season, and, according to Jill, the end of a twenty-something home game winning streak.

“At least they didn’t tackle Finn any more in the last quarter?” Syd says to Jill. “That’s good, right?”

“And he didn’t throw any interceptions,” Jill agrees. “It’s not Hudson’s fault that that running back fumbled.”

“I have literally never had more school spirit than I had today,” Trish announces. “I’m not totally sure how I feel about that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to have even more if they win?” Syd points out. “Just think about how you’ll feel in the future.”

 

“No, it’s honestly ok,” Finn says, for the fourth or fifth time. “Can’t win ’em all, right? And everybody did their best.”

Syd looks around the coffeehouse part of the bookstore and coffeehouse with slight amusement. Trish, Gina, or the pair of them together suggested it as a place to warm up after the game, but Syd’s pretty sure Finn didn’t anticipate being the only male in the entire establishment.

“This place is so much nicer than Starbucks,” Gina says, taking a sip of her latter. “Locally owned businesses are always better than chains.”

Finn frowns. “Starbucks is a really nice company,” he says. “They have excellent benefits and they cover partners and pay for school and stuff like that.”

“Don’t listen to her. I saw her at Starbucks yesterday,” Syd says with a little grin in Gina’s direction. 

“I was just getting an Izze!” Gina protests as Finn continues to scowl at her.

“Sure,” Syd agrees, turning her head towards Finn and mouthing ‘yeah right!’ where Gina can’t see her. She looks back at Gina and shakes her head. “His brother works at Starbucks, Gina.” Gina and the others all nod, and Syd can make out a faint murmur of ‘the brothers’ from them.

“This is a really nice coffee place, too,” Finn says, his tone conciliatory. “It probably has partner benefits, too, or whatever.” He sighs and leans back in his chair. “So, is this a lesbian bookstore or just women in general?”

“Just women’s,” Syd answers. “But they’re LGBT friendly, too.”

“It’s just, you know, I’m the only dude in here, is all,” Finn says. “And that one lady over there keeps looking at me suspiciously.”

Syd laughs for a moment. “It could just be that you’re so tall, Hudson.”

“I’m not _that_ tall! You’ve met The Doug!”

“But she hasn’t!”

“Well, I don’t blame him for not coming in here, if that’s how they stare at tall dudes!”

“Maybe she knows it’s your birthday,” Trish suggests. “Maybe she wants to offer to put a candle on your copy of _Our Bodies, Ourselves_.”

“I don’t think she knows it’s my birthday,” Finn says, but he looks over his shoulder at the woman again, this time a little more suspiciously.

Syd shrugs. “Maybe she can’t figure out where she’s seen you before.”

“Maybe she saw Artie’s movie,” Finn suggests.

“Or, you know, a football game?”

Finn snorts. “Yeah, maybe she saw the game today and she’s mad at me.”

“Why? It’s not your fault they kept tackling you.” Syd shrugs. “Jill said you did well, and she knows the most about football, so.”

“Puck’s blaming the offensive line. Kurt’s trying to figure out how he can get ahold of the OSU defense,” Finn says, grinning. “Apparently the plan is to knee them in the groin and then punch them in the face while they’re all doubled over crying. It’s a good plan.”

“They’re rather protective of you. And inventive.” Syd grins. “So you’re heading home in a few days?”

“Yeah, well,” Finn says, his smile faltering briefly. “I’m the little brother, so I guess they’ve gotta look out for me. But yeah, home. I’m going home.”

“Very little,” Syd says solemnly. “But that’ll be fun, right? See your little sister, too?”

“Yeah, she’s growing so fast!” Talking about the baby seems to perk Finn up again. “She probably won’t fit in my two hands anymore. I hope she’s still got that smell, at least.”

“The smell?”

“The top of her head,” Finn says. “The tops of babies’ heads smell really nice, and they’re all fuzzy. You’ve never smelled a baby’s head before?”

“I’m the youngest,” Syd explains. “By thirteen years.”

“Well, maybe I’ll have some babies someday and you can come smell their heads. Trust me, Syd, it’s pretty much the best smell ever.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Syd says wryly. “I’ll get a birth announcement and I’ll call you up.”

“And I guess… I guess if I don’t have any babies, you can come and smell Kurt and Puck’s babies,” Finn says. “They’ll probably have at least one. Buy it on eBay or something, maybe.”

Syd laughs. “eBaby.”

“Yep. You can get anything on the internet. Maybe skip the shirts, though. Always too short in the sleeves,” Finn says. 

“I think that part is probably just you.”


	7. Experiential Theatre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware the musicals mentioned on _Off-Broadway Off-Color_.

“Remember the conversation I had with Tina back in September or early October, about Thanksgiving?” Kurt says, frowning a little, and Noah pushes away his laptop table with one eyebrow raised. “She and Mike want to know if the invitation is still open.”

Noah purses his lips, because at the time – well, they might have been thinking about Finn a bit, but they weren’t _seriously_ thinking about it. And, yes, they could be futilely hoping, and yes, Mike and Tina knew, before, but. 

“We might want the distraction,” Noah says finally with a little sigh. “They wouldn’t be here until Wednesday, right?”

Kurt nods slowly. “I made the reservation for twelve, knowing we wouldn’t use them all. We can turn in a final number that’s lower the day before. And yes, Wednesday night, most likely. Neither of them have class on Wednesday, but Tina’s got a class late on Tuesday, and Mike may or may not reserve a studio for a few hours on Wednesday morning.”

“Right. So Tuesday until early Friday for Finn, Wednesday night until… Sunday? Saturday? for Mike and Tina?” Noah guesses. “Air mattress from someone else in the building?”

“Surely someone has one,” Kurt agrees. “If we can’t find one by Tuesday night, we’ll convince Dad and Carole to bring one with them on Wednesday.”

Noah laughs. “That’s one thing to bring in the luggage, I guess.” He shrugs. “So, yeah, I guess tell Tina sure. We can do something Saturday with them.”

“I had switched my Wednesday shift to coincide with yours on Friday afternoon, but.” Kurt tilts his head. “Surely they can find their way around on their own.” He grins wryly. “I wouldn’t count on that holding true for everyone who could potentially visit, but Mike and Tina, yes.”

“Yeah, as long as they don’t try to go to Queens or something.” Noah smirks. “I still haven’t figured out what’s even in Queens that would make someone want to go there.”

“You wouldn’t go to Queens for an inexpensive woodwind?” Kurt asks archly, raising both eyebrows, and Noah sticks his tongue out. “That’s what I thought.”

“Just because I brought home a sad, battered cornet from Brooklyn, you think I’d go anywhere for a stray instrument. You probably think I’d go to Jersey.” Noah sighs. “And anyway, the cornet doesn’t require feeding.”

“There are many things that don’t require feeding,” Kurt points out. 

“That guy Ben was talking to, from Columbia, has a lizard or a snake or something in his room. That would definitely be worse.” 

“Ugh.” Kurt makes a face. “Don’t remind me.” He looks at his laptop briefly, then leans over into Noah’s lap. “We have to get ready soon.”

“Why are we going to see this again?”

“It’s supposed to be good.” Kurt yawns. “And I get extra credit.”

Noah laughs. “That’s true. But what kind of musical is only on at three in the afternoon?”

“An off-Broadway one on the Upper West Side based on a novel by Frank Baum, apparently.” 

“I just hope it’s not experiential theatre,” Noah admits. “Like those 3D movies where they splash you with water.”

Kurt giggles, and Noah grins, running his hand through Kurt’s hair. “Do you want to take your umbrella just in case, Noah?” Kurt teases. 

“No, I was just going to duck behind you.” Noah grins and leans over to press their lips together. “So you should take your umbrella.”

“I was going to take something because it’s supposed to rain _outside_ the theatre this evening. Lovely Thursday night weather.”

“Could be worse,” Noah points out. “Could be snow.”

“A plague on both your houses!” Kurt frowns and pushes himself back up, then stands, stretching. “It’s not allowed to snow until December first. Then I’ll tolerate it. Grudgingly.”

“Really?” Noah can’t help but ask, skeptical. 

“If it’s going to be this cold, it might as well be pretty,” Kurt grumbles, walking towards the kitchen. “Burrito?”

Noah shrugs. “Yeah, it’ll be awhile before dinner.” Kurt nods and puts a couple of frozen burritos in the microwave, then turns to look out the window. 

“It’s so grey.”

Noah crosses the room and wraps his arms around Kurt from behind. “That’s true, blue eyes,” he says quietly, following Kurt’s gaze to the window. The clouds look like they could open up well before evening, and they definitely need the lights on. Neither one of them mentions the calendar on the wall, next to the window. 

 

“I changed my mind,” Noah announces when they leave the theatre a good thirty minutes after the show ended. “They should have had the water spray.”

“That play is making me re-evaluate my entire life philosophy,” Zachary laments. “If only this had been any day but Thursday!”

“They made some interesting choices,” Kurt says diplomatically. “Was your conversation with Mr. Stutte informative?”

“It was,” Allison agrees, nodding vigorously. “He gave all three of us his card! Isn’t that quaint?”

“I know I’ll treasure it always,” Noah agrees, nodding soberly as he shoves the card into his wallet. “Frame it, even.”

“You know,” Zachary says, grinning at Allison. “I read on _Off-Broadway Off-Color_ that the mermaid’s fucking the director. That could explain a lot.”

“Maybe,” Allison says archly, “the director is getting fucked. That would explain even more.” 

V2 giggles. “You two are so ridiculous.”

“Yeah, I was promised dinner and a warm place to eat it,” Ben says wryly. 

“The deli’s right here,” Kurt says. “And actually I think I said we would provide a temperate and toasty respite, but.” He shrugs. 

“I need to play Words with Friends with you.” Ben grins a little too enthusiastically at Kurt. “I love that game! I did it as part of my English class for senior year.”

“My god, sir,” Zachary says, with what sounds like total sincerity. “Everything about your life is fascinating. How can you stand it?”

Ben looks solemnly at Zachary and then deadpans, “Music soothes my soul like a balm.”

“I’m telling you, one of these days, you’re coming over, we’re smoking, and you’re telling me every single detail about this unschooling thing of yours,” Zachary says. “Allison, Miss Victoria, you two are of course always welcome to join us. I’ll buy a couple gallons of ice cream and we’ll have a great time. Noah, Kurt, I’m afraid you’ll have to provide your own ice cream.”

“I think he’s trying to say we eat a lot,” Noah says, shaking his head and looking at Kurt, who nods mock–sadly. “And yet, comparatively.”

Kurt grins. “Depends on who we’re comparing to, doesn’t it?”

“Ooh, I know this one!” Allison grins. “Just don’t let them bring Finn and expect you to pay for _his_ ice cream. He ate _three_ cupcakes. After a day of eating.” She bumps against Noah’s hip playfully and then grabs the door and opens it with a flourish. 

“What is this place again?” V2 asks. 

“A little bit of everything,” Noah answers her, somewhat vaguely. “Groceries and a kick-ass deli.”

“And by ‘kick-ass’, Noah means both tasty and cheap,” Kurt clarifies. 

“Exactly.” Noah shrugs. “I think I’m going to get some soup. And a hot roast beef.”

“I still can’t get over how tiny everything is here,” V2 says very quietly. “These aisles are so narrow!”

“Are the aisles narrow?” Zachary asks, looking at them critically. “I thought the baskets were tiny.”

“Horribly, horribly tiny,” Allison agrees. “C’mon, get your food and your drinks and let’s go!” She laughs. “Otherwise I’m going to start talking about the musical and the other customers are going to think we’re all crazy.”

“Pretty sure they already do,” Noah shrugs. “At least, they do K and I.”

“What did I do that was crazy?” Kurt says with a frown. 

“Grumbling about the lack of Pepsi Throwback despite all the different ice cream types did get you a few strange looks, you have to admit.”

“Mmm, push-up pops!” Allison says from in front of the aforementioned ice cream types. “We can get dessert, too!”

“Sometimes dessert is a perfectly valid dinner,” Zachary points out. “Gallon of ice cream, some chocolate sauce, bottle of red wine. Absolutely acceptable Thursday substitute.”

“Why do you need ice cream for the chocolate sauce?” Noah asks innocently.

“Maybe beer instead of wine?” 

“The ice cream gives the illusion of substance,” Zachary explains. “If I just had chocolate sauce and red wine, it would feel indulgent and the whole point of Thursday is to have at least one day a week where I’m not over-indulging. _Some_ self-control is necessary, or so I hear.”

“Shouldn’t you have more classes on Thursday or something, then?” V2 asks him. “Instead of just the one?”

“It’s a time for quiet reflection. Also, those classes are kind of boring to sit through sober, to be perfectly honest with you,” Zachary says. “Plus, Kurt carries that magic snack bag, so it works out pretty well to have classes with him on other days. I don’t know where he finds that stuff. He sometimes has these little cookie things…” Zachary trails off and shakes his head. “My schedule works out perfectly to meet my needs.”

“Magic, hmm?” Noah whispers in Kurt’s ear, laughing slightly, and Kurt suppresses a laugh of his own. 

“I suppose he never does see me refill it?” Kurt murmurs back. 

“True,” Noah concedes. The six of them manage, somehow, to buy dinner, dessert, and drinks, and head back onto the street with minimal damage to the deli or people around them, and it’s definitely good that it’s only a few block to their place, where everyone is going to do their actual eating. Allison complains about them being a walk-up, like she always does, and like they always do, they either ignore her, ask if she wants to pay the extra $50 or so a month for rent in a building with an elevator, or mention that it’s unlikely their friend Artie would come to visit, anyway. 

“Let’s watch something!” Allison declares as soon as they are all six inside the apartment. She sets her food on the floor and wanders over to their DVDs. “A DVD. Unless you want to watch the news or something.” She sighs. “Really, boys? How much lube do you have stashed around here? Right in front of the DVD player.”

“Oh, so _that’s_ where we left it,” Noah says with a smirk. “That particular bottle, I mean.”

“If you don’t like it, you can eat elsewhere,” Kurt responds almost primly, then steps behind Noah and wraps his arms around him. “At least we have our clothes on right now. We could change that.”

Noah grins and leans his head back on Kurt’s shoulder. “Please?” he whispers. 

“It’s a good thing you two don’t actually go to school together, isn’t it?” Ben asks. 

“Good for them, good for us, good for the mental health of their fellow students,” Zachary agrees. “That would be a most unproductive situation, sir. Academically speaking.”

“We went to school together all last year,” Kurt protests. 

“Yeah, I’m not sure that’s a great example, blue eyes,” Noah points out wryly. “Physics class?”

“I thought you didn’t like math,” V2 says, looking a little confused. 

Kurt sighs. “I don’t.”

“Sensible thing to dislike, I think,” Zachary says. 

“You cannot imagine how much I envy the three of you, not having to take math,” Kurt continues, nodding at Zachary’s words. “Do you think they would notice if Noah took my math requirement for me?”

“With such a strong resemblance? How could they ever notice?” Zachary asks. “Noah, you can take my math classes, too. I’m sure we can work out an acceptable trade for your services.”

“It’d be the most clear-headed of any of your classes,” Noah snorts. “If your professors ever compared notes, they’d be very confused.”

“Most of them appreciate my laid-back approach to the theatre. So many of these Broadway hopefuls are too intense. I don’t see the need to be wound so tightly.”

Noah can’t resist a grin as he looks over at Kurt. “We need to properly introduce him to Rachel.”

“Oh, god. Poor Zachary. I mean, she’s… lovely. In her own way. Sort of.” Kurt sighs. “But yes. Very intense and wound very tightly.” Kurt sits down with a roll of paper towels, tossing it into the middle of the floor. “Clean up anything you spill.”

“The tiny ex-girlfriend, right?” Zachary asks. “I could be on board with that meeting. I like them small, dark, and intense. Or small, blonde, and intense. Or just intense.”

“Sadly, she will not be remaining in town over the Thanksgiving holidays,” Kurt informs Zachary, almost quoting Rachel’s latest email word for word. “And her schedule for the month of November is – how did she put it? _Unbelievably cramped_. While she apparently does miss her ‘dear friends from Lima’, she regrets to inform us that it could be Hanukkah before we are graced with her presence.”

“She is a piece of work!” Allison says around a mouthful of sandwich. “That’s hilarious. You two are staying here, right?”

“And even working the day before and the day after,” Noah says with a nod. 

“Dad and Carole and Audrey are flying in on Wednesday evening,” Kurt adds. “Finn on Tuesday. And Mike and Tina are probably taking the train from Boston, rather than trying to make it to Ohio and back.” He looks at the others inquiringly. “I assume Allison is both going home and staying here, but what about the rest of you?”

“My parents are going on a second honeymoon to the Bahamas, to which, either sadly or joyfully, I am not invited,” Zachary says. “I’m sure they’ll return with an assortment of Bahamian art and lamentations about the lack of turkey in the islands.”

“If you’re upset about not overhearing them, you can just hang out outside our door sometime,” Noah says with a smirk, carefully not looking at Kurt. 

“A generous invitation, and yet, somehow I think I’ll decline.” 

“You are all awful,” V2 says, but she’s grinning. “I’m going home. Daddy insisted. I did manage to get my return flight on Sunday morning instead of late Sunday night, and I’m leaving Wednesday morning, _not_ ‘as soon as you could get to the airport after class on Tuesday, Vickie!’”

“I’m heading home for a few days, too,” Ben says, nodding slightly. “My mom’s convinced that at some point I will be either unable or unwilling to return at Thanksgiving, so therefore, I should maximize the opportunity now. She’s big on that. Maximizing opportunity, I mean.”

“Are all three of you eating out for Thanksgiving, then?” Allison asks, looking at Noah and Kurt, then Zachary.

“I have a date with Chinese takeout,” Zachary says. “And possibly with that Canadian girl from our Acting I class. Mir _an_ da, very exotic.”

“Oh, yes, Toronto’s a faraway, exotic locale,” Kurt says dryly. “To answer your question, Allison, we’re going to be at Sarabeth’s West.”

“Ooh, their Thanksgiving is supposed to be so good,” Allison says, nodding a little. “See, Zachary, you don’t have to have _Chinese_ food. There’s a buffet somewhere in Midtown.”

“Ah, but Chinese food isn’t a sacrifice. I prefer it to dry turkey and overly–sagey stuffing, and Miranda from Toronto and I can enjoy it in the semi-privacy of my dorm, while we discuss blocking.”

“Blocking,” Allison repeats skeptically. “Oh, darn, look at the time!” She turns to beam at Kurt and Noah. “Can we watch the submarine show? Pretty please?”

“Fine,” Kurt says with a rueful shake of his head. “But Noah and I are the only ones who get to sit on the futon.”

“Which means I may not have to stand outside the door for that opportunity to overhear you,” Zachary says. “Lucky day all around.”


	8. Thirty-First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every countdown reaches zero eventually; all they have to go on is hope.

He’s not _technically_ skipping any classes—he already turned in his paper, so he’s not obligated to show up to class—but Finn would have been perfectly willing to skip all his classes, to skip practice, to skip Wisconsin Singers rehearsal, any of it, if that’s what it took to get himself on the 6:37am flight from Milwaukee to LaGuardia. It took some negotiating with his mom and Burt to even get him on that flight; his mom seemed convinced he was lying about not missing class and Burt wanted him on one of the flights with layovers because they were cheaper. In the end, both parents finally agreed to the early Tuesday morning non-stop flight, but if they hadn’t, Finn was prepared to use the voucher to book the flight he wanted.

Finn’s mom and Burt don’t know about the voucher. Maybe Kurt and Puck have forgotten about the voucher, because it’s never been mentioned again, not since the end of the summer and of the thing the three of them shared. Finn won’t ever forget the voucher, though when or why he’d have occasion to use it still remains unclear, outside of scheduling a better flight for a family holiday. Still, a family holiday is better than not seeing them at all, and even if he’s nothing else to them anymore, he’s still their brother; they remind him of that almost every phone call. 

The flight’s surprisingly empty for a Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Finn’s pretty sure, but he’s never actually taken a flight anywhere for Thanksgiving, let alone one that leaves at six in the morning, so maybe his expectations don’t mesh with reality. That happens kind of a lot. The flight attendants are all friendly, and one of them offers him a pillow and a blanket. He’d be surprised about how sad something small like that could make him, but Finn sort of gave up on trying to define the limits to his sadness about, oh, four months ago. 

His row is empty, which makes it easy to stretch out across both seats. Finn grips the armrests tightly during take-off, taking deep breaths until the plane levels out, then he leans his head back against the window. He tries to sleep, but all he can really achieve is a light doze, so that by the time the plane starts its initial descent into LaGuardia, Finn is slightly disoriented, along with still being just as tired. 

Finn grips the armrests again as the plane makes a bumpier–than–necessary landing. As the plane slowly taxis to their gate, he pulls out his phone and checks the time. The plane’s running a little early—9:35 instead of the anticipated 9:40—and Finn wonders if Kurt and Puck know, and if they’ll be there on time to meet him, and what exactly he’s supposed to do when he sees them. 

 

Noah slaps at the phone irritably, since he's nominally closest. It's not a Sunday, it's not a Monday, which is his earliest class, and it's not even a Thursday, when Kurt usually gets up early to go to work. It takes about fifteen seconds for it to process through his brain. 

It's Tuesday. It's not just any Tuesday, it's the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and Finn's plane is supposed to land at LaGuardia at 9:40 am. It's leaving Milwaukee at 7:37 EST, which means that for Finn, he had to be all the way to the airport pretty early. They don't have to be awake as early, but they want to be on the 2 train by 8, which means they have to grab breakfast before that, and that is why the alarm is blaring at 7 am. On a Tuesday. 

Noah grins and rolls over carefully, running his finger down Kurt's nose just once before Kurt blinks at him and then slowly smiles. 

"It's Tuesday."

"It is," Noah agrees, sliding his arm around Kurt's waist. "It's the Tuesday before Thanksgiving."

"And you're skipping your very first college class today!" Kurt says, mock–proudly. 

"I talked to Professor Stone and he was very understanding about the fact that I wouldn't want family to be wandering around LaGuardia unmet," Noah protests. "And Allison and Ben are going to share their notes. So I'm not sure it actually counts as skipping. It's more like… an excused absence."

Kurt laughs and after a second, Noah joins in. "Fine. Your first excused absence," Kurt concedes. "So let's get moving."

Thirty minutes later, they walk out the door, first grabbing coffee at Starbucks, then heading up to Bagels & Co for breakfast, at which point Kurt teases Noah about being a walking cliche with his lox. "Shut up," Noah says around a mouthful as they get onto the 2 train. "There's probably something cliche about whole wheat and veggie cream cheese."

Kurt sniffs and shakes his head, then grins. Ten minutes later, they're standing and waiting in the cold for the M60 bus, and Kurt shivers a little. "Good thing I brought my gloves," he grumbles. 

"It's not _that_ cold. Yet." Noah wraps his arm around Kurt's shoulders for the rest of the wait, though he agrees with Kurt: he's glad he has gloves on his hands, now. The bus stops at least twenty times, Noah figures, or maybe it just feels like that many to both of them. He's not sure which of them is squeezing more tightly, and maybe it doesn't matter. Finally, they get to the parking lot close to the central terminal and walk inside. Their careful planning has them there a good thirty-five minutes too early, so they very carefully figure out if Finn's plane is still on time—it is—and where to stand, before finding an open table to sit at while they wait. This time, there’s nowhere else they have to be, no flight they have to run to catch. 

 

Finn’s probably a good fifteen minutes earlier at the gate than anyone expected him, between the early landing and how quickly they were able to taxi to their gate. He has his carryon in hand, ready to bolt off the plane as soon as the flight attendant says they can disembark, and anybody who might have gotten in his way seems to think wiser of it, because they step out of the aisle and give him a clear shot to the door. He tosses a polite “thanks” to the flight attendant and then sprints up the concourse.

The escalators don’t move fast enough, and he pushes past on the left, muttering “excuse me, sorry, sorry” as he goes up, which means he’s probably going to be that much more too early. Maybe it’ll give him a chance to get his bearings or whatever while he waits, or maybe he can just pace around the baggage claim for a little while, even though he doesn’t have any bags to pick up.

Sure enough, when he gets up to the top and looks around the arrivals area, he doesn’t see them anywhere. They’re not by baggage claim or the doors, and he doesn’t spot them when he gives the coffee shop and deli a quick look, so he walks back towards the baggage carousel again, starting the circuit all over again. If he has to, he can text or call them, but he’s trying to make this all as unawkward as possible, and it feels like that might make it _more_ awkward. 

“Finn!” Kurt’s voice calls from behind him. Finn spins around and scans the coffee shop again, but this time he sees them. They’d actually been sitting there the first time he looked, but somehow he missed them, focused on the wrong details or something, because that’s them. It’s _them_ , and there’s no glass separating them this time, they’re not heading in opposite directions. 

“Hey!” Finn says, and any of the question about what to do sort of evaporates as he jogs in their direction, a huge smile on his face. “I didn’t see you!”

Kurt and Puck stand up, both of them grinning as they move around the table towards Finn. “Ninja,” Puck says with a shrug.

Finn stops in his tracks a few feet away, and his carryon bag slides off his shoulder and arm, hitting the floor with a thunk that should probably be alarming, but doesn’t seem important at the moment. “Hey,” he says again, looking from Puck’s face to Kurt’s and back again. 

“Hi.” Kurt’s grin gets a little wider, and he looks over at Puck for a split second before they both move forward, throwing their arms around Finn. Finn wraps his arms around them, pulling them close and burying his face in Kurt’s hair, then turning his head to press his face against Puck’s short hair. Finn’s eyes sting and he has to blink them hard to keep from crying into the top of Puck’s head like an idiot. 

“Fuck, I missed you,” Finn whispers. “I missed you.” He tightens his grip on them, if that’s really even possible, and keeps moving his face from Puck’s hair to Kurt’s. 

“Missed you too” is the muffled reply, their faces buried against him, and he can feel their hands on his back, under his coat, fingers twisting in his hoodie. Finn runs his hands down their backs, over and over, breathing in their familiar smell and ignoring the fact that they’re in the middle of an airport with people all around them. 

“Excuse me? Sir?” someone says from behind them. “Is this your bag? I think you may have dropped it.”

Finn lifts his head from where it’s resting against the top of Kurt’s and turns his face towards the person speaking to him. “Huh? What bag?”

Kurt giggles a little. “I think he means your carryon.”

“Oh. Ok, yeah.” Finn nods his head at the guy. “Thanks. Yeah, that’s mine.” Finn looks down at the bag, trying to decide if he really wants to let Kurt go long enough to pick the bag up again or not. He’s mostly leaning towards not.

“I think they’re worried that you have something deadly in there,” Puck says with a very straight face. “Like secret plans to dominate the Upper West Side via football.”

“I’ve got my playbook pages in there. And my iPad. Maybe the combination’s what’s so bad?" Finn suggests. “I don’t think I look very threatening, though.”

“Well, you do look—” Kurt cuts himself off abruptly. “We should go back over to Manhattan now!”

“Yeah. I don’t have any other bags or anything,” Finn says, still not letting either of them go. “We can go if you’re ready to go.”

“We’re ready,” Puck nods, and the two of them shift slightly before Finn can feel the slight press of their joined hands against his back. Finn lets his arm drop from around Kurt long enough for him to lean over and grab his carryon, resettling it on his shoulder before putting his arm around Kurt again. The two of them steer him out of the terminal to the correct bus stop, where a bus pulls up after just a few minutes. 

The three of them board the bus and squeeze into a seat together, Finn tossing his bag into the seat in front of them and draping his arms across their shoulders. It’s so they can fit in the seat better, if anybody asked, but really it’s because he needs as much of their bodies against his as he can get, and this might _be_ as much as he can get. 

“Flight okay?” Kurt asks. “Were you able to sleep?”

“It was alright. Little bumpy on the landing. I kinda napped, but not really,” Finn says. “Early morning.”

“Maybe too early for the pilot, too?” Puck says with a quirk of one eyebrow. “Nothing planned today if you need a nap.”

“I’ll be ok. If I get too grumpy, you can just smack me or something. Maybe we can get some coffee or something to eat, though?” Finn asks. “It was too early for breakfast when I left this morning.”

For some reason, this seems to amuse both Kurt and Puck, who nod. “We can do that,” Kurt agrees. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Awesome,” Finn says. He tightens his arms around Puck and Kurt’s shoulders and sinks down slightly in his seat, exhaling deeply. He hadn’t even realized how wound up he was until just this moment, when some of that tight, confused feeling relaxed. It’s not awkward, not yet anyway, and for the moment, Finn’s perfectly content to sit between them, holding them. 

 

Finn doesn’t seem particularly concerned that they get off the bus and switch to the train on the east side of the park, and Kurt exchanges another covert grin with Noah when they disembark at the 86th St stop and walk four blocks south before turning onto 82nd. 

“Still hungry?” Kurt asks Finn with a slight grin. 

“Am I ever not hungry?” Finn answers, grinning back. “All I’ve had today is one of those little bags of pretzels.”

“What do you think, K? Should he try the nachos or the mac ‘n’ cheese? With a burger, I mean.”

“Oh, nachos, definitely,” Kurt says, nodding. “And, here we go,” he says as they pass the thrift store and stop in front of Mad River.

Noah opens the door and smirks a little, gesturing for Finn to walk in first. “After you.”

“Hey, is this the Wisconsin place?” Finn asks, as he’s walking in. He looks around the room and then laughs. “Yeah, ok. It’s obviously the Wisconsin place.”

“Was it the pennants or the large Bucky that convinced you?” Puck jokes as Kurt leads the way towards the bar. Mad River’s only just opened a few minutes ago, so they sit at the bar and wait for someone to come out from the back. 

“It was the red. Also, the giant W over there,” Finn says, pointing in the direction of the W. “Anybody could have a Bucky.”

“Are you saying that Bucky gets around?” Puck asks just as Winston emerges from the kitchen. 

“It’s not Saturday, boys,” he says after a split second. 

Kurt smirks a little. “No, it’s not. But if it were Saturday, then we wouldn’t have Finn with us, so…"

“Oh!” Winston turns towards Finn and grins widely. “I’m not sure if you’re more famous for playing or being their brother.” He sticks out a hand. “I’m Winston.”

“Finn Hudson,” Finn says, gripping Winston’s hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake. “And probably for being their brother, I’d guess. I haven’t really played in that many games.”

“Five,” Kurt can’t help pointing out. “Five out of eleven.”

Finn shrugs and ducks his head slightly. “That’s not even half. And I didn’t do so great in one of ’em, so…"

“Yeah, you have complete control over the offensive line,” Noah snorts. “And it’s all of the last five, _so_.”

“Well, we’re all hoping Jensen’ll be feeling better soon,” Finn says. 

“Speak for yourself.” Kurt shrugs. “I mean, yes, of course being ill isn’t good, but there’s no need for him to make a miraculous recovery in the next four days.”

Winston laughs. “Watching out for your brother, I see.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Noah grins. 

“Well, it’s good to meet you,” Winston says to Finn. “You’ve been playing really well. Kind of fun for us to have a personal connection to the games, too.”

“Thank you! It’s been fun to play. Sure wasn’t expecting it this year, but I guess you never can know what’s gonna happen,” Finn says. “I feel lucky more than anything else.”

“Mmmhmm. Hard work had nothing to do with it?” Kurt says, arching his eyebrow. 

“Everybody on the team works hard,” Finn answers. 

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Right. Winston, can you bring Finn some nachos and a burger as well?”

“Of course,” Winston nods. “Regular order for the two of you?”

“Please,” Noah nods, and Winston disappears briefly back into the kitchen before he returns, one of the servers trailing behind him with a camera in her hand. 

“Can we get a picture?” she asks. “Maybe one with Winston right here in front of the W!”

“Sure, yeah!” Finn says, his grin getting even wider. “Take one for me, too?” He fishes in his pocket for his phone and hands it to the server with the affable smile he seems to reserve for flight attendants, waitresses, and other middle-aged women from whom he’s requesting a service. 

“No problem,” the server chirps, and Kurt suppresses a giggle as Finn and Winston stand in front of the red W while the server snaps a few pictures. “Thanks!”

“No, thank _you_!” Finn says, winking at her. “Hey, could I get some extra pickles and maybe some hot sauce?”

“Of course!” She hands Finn his phone and disappears back into the kitchen, while Winston shakes Finn’s hand another time before doing the same. 

“You’re incorrigible,” Kurt says to Finn, raising both eyebrows. 

“Nah, it’s just hot sauce,” Finn answers. 

Kurt starts to laugh, leaning against Finn’s shoulders. “Of course it is,” he murmurs, and it’s very difficult not to add ‘darling’ at the end. 

 

After Winston stuffs them with free dessert, Kurt shivers dramatically when they step onto the sidewalk. 

“Do we need to get a taxi, blue eyes?” Noah asks. “Not up to walking to the bus stop?”

“It’s not that cold, really,” Finn says. “Not like it is back in Wisconsin, anyway.”

“It _is_ cold,” Kurt insists. “But a taxi _would_ be quicker, and almost as cheap.”

“Taxi it is, then,” Noah agrees, and the three of them shove into the back seat of a taxi, Finn’s bag in the front passenger seat. It doesn’t take long to cross Central Park, and Noah tosses a ten at the driver as they climb out. 

“And here we have our building,” Kurt says with a twirl of his hand. “Complete with decorative fire escape.”

“It’s nice. Very New York,” Finn declares, still smiling. Noah’s not sure, in fact, that Finn’s stopped smiling since he spotted them at the airport, including when he was eating. Noah can’t help but feel like maybe it’s a hopeful sign, but then, Finn could just be glad to see them.

Noah unlocks the front door of the building, and the three of them head for the stairs. “Third floor walk-up isn’t bad,” Noah says to Finn. “Could be on the sixth floor.”

“Dude, I work out for like two hours almost every day,” Finn laughs. “It’s just stairs. It’s cool.”

“Allison always tells us we should have gotten a building with an elevator.” Kurt looks thoughtful for a moment. “Come to think of it, Dad might’ve agreed with her when we moved in.”

“Yeah, I can just see Burt hoofing furniture up these stairs,” Finn says. “I bet he was whiny.”

“He was more than willing to pay for the delivery service from Ikea, let’s put it that way,” Kurt agrees, opening the door to the third floor and making his way down the hall towards their apartment. Noah hasn’t really gotten used to the idea of it being _their_ apartment sometimes; he feels a bit like an imposter, like someone is waiting to jump out and laugh at them for thinking they were adults. 

“Yeah, I bet he was! Poor Burt.”

Kurt unlocks the door and pushes it open. “And here we have our own few square feet.”

Finn looks around the apartment and says, “Wow, that’s… a few square feet, alright! It’s nice, though. I like it.” He walks inside and then asks, “Where should I put my bag?”

“By the closet’s fine,” Noah answers. 

“So, pretty much anywhere, then?” Finn jokes. 

“I wouldn’t recommend the bathtub,” Kurt replies as he and Noah take off their shoes. Finn watches them for a moment, then takes off his own shoes and sets them next to Noah’s. He sets his backpack by the closet and then stands in the middle of the apartment looking somewhat confused, his eyebrows scrunching together. 

“You can throw your coat over here,” Noah tells him, taking off his own at the same time. “Just watch out for all of K’s. If they fall off, we all have to help pick them up.”

Finn grins again and takes off his coat, carefully hanging it on the rack. “I feel like I’m about to fall over,” he says. “It was still almost yesterday when I got up this morning, it was so early.”

Noah and Kurt both laugh, and Kurt grabs Finn by the wrist, pulling him towards the futon. “Sit,” Kurt tells him. 

Finn laughs and shakes his head, sitting down. “I guess Syd might be right. I’ve gotta remember to tell her that later.”

“Oh?” Noah asks, raising his eyebrows as he and Kurt sit down on either side of Finn. 

“Yeah, she says having me around is like having a puppy, except I don’t pee on her stuff,” Finn says. “I don’t. Pee on her stuff, I mean.”

“I should hope not!” Kurt says, wrinkling his nose. 

“Pretty sure there’s some frats on campus where that actually happens,” Finn says. “Some dudes from Fiji peed in a girl’s car during one of their parties. Seriously. Who does that? Fiji, I guess, but seriously. Why would someone do that?”

“That’s gross.” Kurt keeps his nose wrinkled. 

“Yeah, a lot of the frats are gross. I mean, there’s a reason I didn’t rush or anything. I mean, lots of reasons why, but peeing in cars, that’s definitely on the list of reasons not to, right?”

Noah can’t remember the last time he heard Finn sound quite so nervous and rambling. “Peeing in cars is always on a list of reasons not to do something, I think,” Noah agrees. 

“Anyway, I didn’t need the Greeks. I’ve got football and the Singers and the QSA, so I stay pretty busy or whatever,” Finn continues rambling. “And some of them were real dicks, anyway, and I’ve got Syd if I really need somebody to be a dick to me for a while. She doesn’t think it’s all that funny when I tell her that, but I kinda think it’s hilarious.”

“It’s something,” Kurt nods, leaning against the back of the futon. 

“So… so. It’s different,” Finn sort of blurts. “That you aren’t on my iPad.”

Noah grins and shakes his head. “We could cut out some cardboard frames and hold them up.”

“You look different. It doesn’t show up as much on FaceTime, I guess.” Finn runs his hand through his hair and his eyebrows squish together again. “Everything’s different now, I guess.”

“Not everything,” Kurt says quietly. 

“Well, yeah, I mean, there’s…" Finn takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “The two of you. That’s… that’s the same.”

“That’s not the only thing.” Noah shifts sideways, partially facing Finn. 

“Feels different,” Finn says softly. “Like maybe what you need from me now is just…"

“What we _need_ is for you to be happy. What we want…" Kurt trails off. 

“Is a brother?” Finn asks. He sounds and looks heartbroken, but he gives Kurt a sad, crooked half–smile. “That’s what it seems like you want. When we talk.”

Kurt closes his eyes briefly and then looks at Noah. “Maybe you should try?” he says ruefully. 

“More like we keep reminding ourselves,” Noah says. “We—” He stops, looking at Finn. “We don’t want to make your life… complicated.”

Finn’s eyebrows squish together even more and he shakes his head slightly. “You don’t make my life complicated.” 

“We _could_ , though,” Noah sighs. “Whatever it is, it could, and… we don’t know what you want, and.” 

Finn tilts his head and shakes it again, to indicate he’s not following whatever Noah’s saying. 

“We don’t know what you want,” Kurt repeats Noah’s words. “And the last thing we want is for you to feel like you have to give us a certain answer, that there’s only one acceptable thing to want. Of course we—”

“We _hope_ for one answer,” Noah interjects. “But.”

“Answer to what?” Finn asks. “You didn’t ask me anything yet.”

“Fuck it,” Noah mutters, leaning forward and sliding his hand on the back of Finn’s neck before turning Finn towards him and bringing their mouths together. A low whine comes out of Finn and both of his hands move to the sides of Noah’s face and then up into his hair, Finn kissing Noah back desperately. 

Noah feels Kurt’s hand half on top of his, Finn’s lips underneath his own, and none of it is enough. Noah slides his other hand down Finn’s chest, then underneath Finn’s hoodie, slowly working it up. 

“Does that mean the answer’s yes?” Kurt asks, sounding almost smug. 

Finn barely pulls away from Noah, their lips still touching, and he answers, “Yes, the answer’s yes, _fuck_ I missed you two so much,” before crashing his mouth against Noah’s again. His hands slide under Noah’s shirt, running across Noah’s stomach and sides. 

“Then there’s something you should probably know,” Kurt says almost calmly. “Did you notice all the throws and blankets? And how warm it is in here?” He continues without waiting for Finn to answer. “Generally speaking, clothing is unnecessary at home.”

Noah pulls away just long enough to whisper in Finn’s ear. “Also, it’s Tuesday.”

Finn’s head drops onto Noah’s shoulder and a tremble runs through him. “I missed you. I missed you so much,” he says quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, darling,” Kurt murmurs, running his hand through Finn’s hair, almost petting him. “We missed you, too. So very much.”

“We love you,” Noah whispers. “So proud of you.”

“I’m so stupid. I never should have… I should have kissed you goodbye,” Finn says into Noah’s shoulder. “I should have called you right then and asked you to come back. I should have told you every single time we talked.”

“Finn, darling,” Noah sighs, and it’s a little bit a sigh of relief, the name falling out of his mouth again, finally. Before Noah can continue, Kurt leans forward, his lips against Finn’s ear, whispering so quietly Noah can’t make out the words. Finn turns towards Kurt, kissing his eyelids and his cheeks and the tip of his nose before pressing their mouths together. One of Finn’s hands stays under Noah’s shirt, the other sliding under Kurt’s, and Finn’s whole body seems to relax as he touches them. 

Noah just watches the two of them kiss for a long moment before starting to remove his own shirt and discarding it in the floor. 

“We still have far too many clothes on,” he notes, sliding a hand up Finn’s back, under his hoodie and the T-shirt underneath it. 

Kurt pulls away slightly and nods. “Tell us what you want, darling,” he whispers, voice low. “Tell us a little story.”

“I want my clothes off. I want _your_ clothes off,” Finn says. 

“And then?” Noah asks, tugging on Finn’s hoodie. 

“And then I’m going to kiss you, both of you.” Finn puts his arms up, letting Noah pull the hoodie off. “I love you. I love you both so much. And then I’m going to touch you and I’m going to put my mouth on you and I’m going to— _fuck_ , I’m going to do everything. I missed you so much.”

“Remember what Noah said earlier?” Kurt says wickedly. “We don’t have to be anywhere today. Or the first half of tomorrow.”

“Good,” Finn says. “Nobody’s going anywhere.”

“No,” Noah agrees, pulling off his jeans and then his underwear. “Not going anywhere. Not putting on any clothes.”

Finn starts unfastening his own jeans, then pauses. “Guys? You, uh. You know I’ve been, you know. Dating. Right?”

“Yes,” Kurt says slowly, nodding. 

“I just. I got tested. Just, you know. So you know that.” He doesn’t look up at them while he’s talking. “I thought you didn’t want— I didn’t think I’d ever have this again. And…" Finn trails off and sighs. “Fuck. I’m so stupid. If I’d known or had any idea, but I thought you didn’t want this. I made myself believe that.”

“What could we have done?” Noah asks softly. “We wanted—want—you to be happy. Whatever that means for you. We _need_ that, darling. Need to know that.”

“All I need to be happy is you,” Finn says. “That’s all. That’s what I’ve been missing. I like school, I like playing and I like the Singers, and I have friends there, but it’s _you_. That’s the part that was wrong, was not having you two.”

“We’re right here, and you’re here, and you’re _ours_ ,” Kurt responds. 

“I’m yours,” Finn agrees. “And I love you and I was stupid to not tell you that every day. I thought about you all the time. I _dreamed_ about you.” He pushes his jeans off and kicks them away, then puts one arm around Noah’s waist, hauling him into Finn’s lap. 

Noah grins. “Hi.” He puts his head on Finn’s shoulder. “We love you too.”

Finn strokes his hands down Noah’s back, holding him close, then he reaches out with one arm, putting it around Kurt. Kurt presses against Finn’s side, his arms around Finn and Noah both, and Noah’s not sure which of them—maybe all of them—lets out the very content sigh. 

“I like your hair,” Finn says, after a few minutes pass. 

Noah grins and moves his head back and forth against Finn’s shoulder a couple of times. “Did you know that having something on your head makes it warmer?”

“Crazytalk,” Finn says, laughing. “But I’ve never not had something on my head, so I guess I don’t know the difference.”

“I suppose not,” Noah agrees, tilting his head slightly so he can run his tongue over Finn’s collarbone. He watches Kurt’s hand move through Finn’s hair, turning Finn towards him until their lips meet, and Noah grins, moving his own mouth up on Finn’s neck. 

Kurt slowly pulls away after a long moment. “Everything, you said, darling?” he asks, grinning widely.

“Yes,” Finn answers quickly. “As much as we can fit into today and tomorrow, anyway,” he adds. 

“It’s only a month until the semester break,” Kurt points out. “Which is far less than _four_.”

“Four months was…" Finn sighs and shakes his head, and the arm around Noah tightens. “Long. It was long.”

“Too long.” Noah sighs against Finn’s neck. “We should try to make ourselves forget how long it was.”

“What’s first on that list of everything, darling?” Kurt asks. 

“Can we lie down on something? This thing folds out, right?” Finn says. 

“Yeah,” Noah nods, standing up reluctantly, and Kurt does as well. “But you’ll have to stand up for a second.”

“But I don’t wanna stand up,” Finn grumbles. “I want the futon to be magical.” He does stand up, though, with an exaggerated frown on his face. 

Noah stops as they’re about to fold it out and grins, looking over at Kurt, who looks about as predatory as Noah feels. “Damn.”

“Mmmhmm,” Kurt agrees.

“Guess it’s a good thing it’s so cold in Wisconsin. Layers,” Noah shrugs with a smirk. 

“What?” Finn asks, looking confused. 

“Let’s just say we can definitely tell you work out two hours a day, or whatever you said earlier,” Kurt laughs. “You look good, darling. That’s all.”

“Yeah?” Finn grins, but blushes slightly. “Working out’s kind of my job.”

“Then your job has some excellent benefits – for us,” Noah smirks.

Finn runs his hand through his hair and his face gets a little redder, then he leans over and starts unfolding the futon. “Yeah, yeah.”

“You don’t believe us?” Kurt asks, his voice almost sounding hurt, but he’s smirking at Finn’s back, too. 

“I’m just me,” Finn says. “Same old me, that’s all.”

“Hmm.” Kurt wrinkles his nose and sits down on the now–unfolded futon. “So we can’t appreciate you, is that what you’re saying?”

“No, I’m not— I’m just saying that… I’m still just me, that’s all. I’m the one that does the heavy lifting.” 

Noah nods. “Yep. You do. We can tell.”

Finn’s face gets even redder. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” Noah says with a smirk. Finn takes a step towards Noah, then hooks his arm around Noah’s waist and pushes him down onto the futon, Finn’s mouth on Noah’s as they land next to Kurt. Finn’s hand runs down Noah’s chest and hip, and Finn shifts slightly to the side so he can wrap his fingers around Noah’s cock. 

Kurt laughs, and Noah can feel Kurt shift closer to them, his legs sliding against Finn’s and Noah’s. “If you keep your hand there, darling, he’ll just start making more noise.”

Finn pulls his mouth away from Noah’s and grins at Kurt. “Noise is ok. Just as long as there’s no more talking about me.” He moves his hand up and down Noah’s cock slowly, and leans across Noah’s chest to kiss Kurt. 

“But we like to talk about you,” Noah protests, sliding his fingers down Finn’s chest. He curls his hand around Finn’s cock and squeezes gently before releasing it, running his hand along Finn’s thighs. 

“Yeah?” Finn asks. His eyes close and his body relaxes against Noah’s. “I bet you just talk about me all the time, in the middle of all your busy New York stuff.” He huffs a short laugh. 

“Well.” Noah keeps moving his hand over Finn’s thighs, up onto his stomach, and back, teasing, never quite touching his cock. “I think there’s a few people who think we should talk about you less.”

Kurt nods. “It’s true. ‘Let me guess. Finn.’ is something we’ve been known to hear,” he says wryly. 

“I might kinda talk about you guys a little bit, too,” Finn says. “Don’t, uh, talk to Syd about it. She’s a liar, you know. She lies. If you asked her about it, she’d say it was a lot.”

“We need to meet Syd,” Noah declares. “Definitely need to meet her, don’t you think, K?”

“Absolutely,” Kurt agrees. “Get her contact information, everything.”

“I’ll give you her number if you promise you won’t break her, ok?” Finn says. “I think she only barely puts up with me as it is. Syd’s awesome.” He tightens his hand on Noah’s cock. “But no more Syd talk now.”

“Yeah?” Noah pushes up against Finn’s hand. “What are you going to talk about, darling?”

Finn just laughs and shifts so his head is against Noah’s stomach. Finn kisses him across his stomach and hip, hand still moving, and then kisses Noah right near the base of his cock. 

“Fuck,” Noah whines. “Finn.”

“Maybe you should ask him what he wants,” Kurt suggests, grinning.

Finn nuzzles his face against Noah’s stomach, then looks up at him. “So, what do you want,” Finn starts, then smiles almost shyly and adds, “baby?”

“I want you inside me, dammit,” Noah answers, biting his lip and rocking his hips slightly to match the movement of Finn’s hand. Finn’s smile widens and he moves his head a little so he can run his tongue along the underside of Noah’s cock, just once, before he sits up.

“That sounds like a good plan,” Finn says, grinning. “Where do you guys keep your, you know. Supplies.”

Noah and Kurt both start laughing. “Just look around,” Kurt manages after twenty seconds or so. “We promise that there’s none actually in the food, but otherwise it’s pretty much fair game.”

“Then hand me a bottle of something,” Finn says. “It’s been _four months_ , you guys.”

Noah reaches to the side and then hands a bottle to Finn, starting to laugh again when he notices Kurt doing the exact same. “Oh, look, you get two,” Noah says.

Finn hands the bottle from Noah over to Kurt. “Yep, I get two,” Finn agrees. He flips open the cap on the bottle Kurt handed him, pour some lube into his hand. “I’m probably out of practice with this stuff, you know.”

“I’ll let you know,” Noah says dryly. “C’mon.”

Finn’s fingertips circle Noah’s entrance for just a second before he pushes two fingers steadily inside. His other hand goes back to Noah’s cock and he moves both hands in a slow rhythm, a half–smile on his face. “That’s ok?”

“Yes,” Noah hisses, tilting his hips up. “Fuck, darling.”

Finn slides his fingers out and adds a third when he pushes them back in. “Yeah, in a second,” Finn agrees. 

“ _Now_ ,” Noah argues. “It should be now.”

Finn laughs and rolls his eyes as he pulls his fingers out again, and says, “Fine!” He moves Noah’s legs up and then his cock is pushing inside Noah. “Holy _fuck_ , Puck, I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Noah murmurs, closing his eyes. “Fuck, fuck, darling, missed you so much.”

Finn’s movements falter for a moment and he moans softly, then thrusts into Noah harder. “Kurt,” Finn says in a low voice, which changes to a whine when he continues with, “Kurt, _please_.”

Noah can tell the moment Kurt’s completely inside Finn, both of them exhaling, and Noah grins and opens his eyes, rocking his hips experimentally until the three fall into the same rhythm. “Good thing no one’s probably home downstairs right now,” Noah laughs, putting one hand on Kurt’s side and the other in Finn’s hair. 

Finn mutters, “There’s other people?” and if it weren’t _Finn_ saying it, and he didn’t sound totally blissed out, it would be kind of cheesey. 

Noah uses the hand in Finn’s hair to tug him down, and he presses his lips to Finn’s neck, over and over, careful not to leave a mark. None of them are going to last very long, and Noah lets his eyelids close again as Finn thrusts into him. Finn starts whispering by Noah’s ear, then murmuring, incoherently at first and gradually louder.

“Fuck, baby, fuckfuckfuck, I love you, love you, both of you, fuckfuck _missed you_ ,” Finn babbles, thrusting harder into Noah, one hand wrapped around Noah’s cock. “Love you so much. Puck, Kurt, love you, please, _please_!”

Noah pushes into Finn’s hand, his fingers tightening in Finn’s hair as he hears Kurt hum for a few seconds before speaking. “Come for me, my loves, now, now.”

Finn cries out, something that vaguely sounds like “Oh god!” before coming inside Noah. Noah shudders as he comes, and he can feel Kurt shake a little before the only sound is all three of them breathing, finally still. 

“Mmm,” Kurt says after a moment. “But now I need a blanket.”

Noah grins and reaches behind him, finding a throw and unfolding it before draping it over the three of them. “Better, blue eyes?”

“A bit.”

Finn changes position and drapes himself over Kurt, too, one arm still flung across Noah. “How about that? Warmer?”

Kurt laughs. “Yes. The very latest in textiles.”

“I’m working really hard on my furniture major, but I’m taking a blanket class now, too,” Finn says. “It rounds out my transcript or whatever.”

“Blanket science?” Noah suggests. 

“I think it’s one of those liberal arts things,” Finn says. “I’m still not really sure what those are. I mean, I already vote for those guys, so I don’t really need to take classes about it.”

“Oh, darling.” Kurt giggles. “God, we missed you.”

“You just missed me being a blanket,” Finn answers, but he pulls both of them a little closer to him. 

“Hmm. No. Blanket’s purely a bonus,” Kurt says thoughtfully. “Must’ve been something else.” 

“Don’t forget all the heavy things,” Noah teases. “We have a whole backlog.”

“I’ll lift _you_ ,” Finn grumbles. “Don’t even need a spotter this time, ’cause of how you aren’t really that heavy of a thing.”

“I’m not dancing with you in here,” Noah says wryly. “I don’t think there’s enough room, for starters.”

“You could try in the kitchen,” Kurt says innocently. “Really give Treadmill Guy a reason to knock off early.”

“Treadmill Guy?” Finn asks. He rolls over onto his back, pulling Kurt and Noah against his chest. “Who’s Treadmill Guy?”

“From the window in the kitchen, there’s a guy across the street who runs on a treadmill. We have this theory—”

“ _Noah_ has a theory. I merely accept that it’s plausible,” Kurt interrupts.

“Fine, _I_ have a theory that he varies the length of his workout based on if he sees us naked or not. One of us, five minutes shorter. Two of us, ten minutes shorter. And both of us at the same time? Fifteen minutes shorter.”

“You think he gets a bonus for naked guests?” Finn asks. “Maybe he could, like, skip altogether.”

“It’s Thanksgiving week, though,” Kurt points out. “Aren’t we morally obligated to make sure he gets in as much exercise as possible, to offset the gluttony of Thursday?” He stops, then shakes his head. “Then again, gluttony’s sort of the point of Thanksgiving.”

“He shouldn’t be treadmilling after all that turkey, anyway,” Finn says. “We’re not supposed to work out right after we eat, ’cause it makes guys puke on the equipment. It’s kinda like the rule with swimming, only that one’s not true, I don’t think. The puking on the equipment thing is totally true, though. I’ve seen it happen.”

“Eww,” Noah says, wrinkling his nose. “Dude.”

“That’s disgusting, Finn,” Kurt complains. “You could have left off the last sentence.”

“I’m just saying that maybe he shouldn’t do so much treadmill this week,” Finn says. “Sorry. I won’t say anything else that’s gross, I promise.”

“In that case, I suppose we could be good citizens and all stand in front of the window,” Noah says, amused. “Luckily, Treadmill Guy is always clothed.”

“That’s good. Otherwise, it would be sorta awkward,” Finn says, nodding his head. He suddenly starts laughing quietly, holding them a little tighter. 

“What is it, darling?” Kurt asks.

“I’m happy. I’m just really, really happy,” Finn answers. He turns and kisses the top of Noah’s head, and then turns towards Kurt and does the same. “I didn’t even feel like I was allowed to hope for this.”

“Just look at it as… bypassing the hoping stage?” Noah suggests with a laugh. “It’s like do not pass Go.”

“I think if you guys pay me $200 that’s against the law or something,” Finn says. “And if I pay you $200, that’s like $400 total, and I don’t have that much cash with me.”

“It’s only illegal if you get paid?” Noah asks. “I’m confused. No one’s paying anyone. Well, unless we order food. Then we’ll pay the delivery guy.”

“If you pass Go. You get $200 for that. Right? That’s the same game, isn’t it?” Finn’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Or am I thinking of Life or something?”

“Yeah, but you’re _not_ passing Go. So.” Noah grins. “No $200.”

“You two are ridiculous.”

“Well, good, so then nobody’s breaking the law,” Finn says. “But I’m still confused about the Go part.”

“How about we don’t _Go_ anywhere,” Kurt says wryly. “At least at the moment.”

“Can we go to the door if we order food?” Finn asks. “Oh, and do I have to put clothes on for that?”

“Only one of us has to go to the door,” Noah answers. “And you could just wear a blanket. Or pants.”

“I don’t want to wear either of those things. Maybe I’ll just wear _you_ ,” Finn says. “You’re better than pants. I’ll just put you on.”

“Still ridiculous,” Kurt pronounces. “But well-intentioned.”

“I’m putting that on my next performance review. ‘Better than pants’. You think that’ll get me a raise?” 

“I’ll give you a raise,” Finn offers.

“Yeah?” Noah lifts his head a little and grins. “Remember, I said no dancing.”

“Because I totally meant dancing,” Finn says. “Obviously.”

“Duh. You always mean dancing. You’re a dancing fool or whatever.” Noah laughs. “Dancing Finn. That’s what the tribute bands sing.”

“Young and free, only nineteen,” Kurt quips. “Ooh, that’s right!”

“What’s right? Tribute bands are never right,” Finn says. “Trust me on that one. They had this tribute band at a Pike party one weekend, it was David Bowie tribute band. They all dressed like David Bowies. Different David Bowies, from like, that one where he steals the baby and that one where he had the lightning bolt on his face, and the one where he was afraid of Americans.”

“David Bowie was afraid of Americans?” Kurt shakes his head. “Well. No. I don’t imagine a David Bowie tribute band would work all that well.”

“But I’m pretty sure K was referring to your birthday present.”

“Do I have to put pants on for my birthday present?” Finn asks.

“No.” Kurt shrugs. “But you do have to let me go get it.”

“Sweet! Except the letting you go part. You have to come right back.”

“It’s cold out there. Why wouldn’t I?” Kurt points out, scrambling out from under the blankets to grab the bag from the closet and sliding back under quickly. “Swiped my phone, too. So we can order food if we get hungry.” He dangles the bag in front of Finn’s face. “So you want your present, darling?”

“Yes!” Finn grabs the bag. He reaches inside and pulls out the portable ping pong set, giving it a confused look. “Well, it’s important to be able to travel with ping pong.”

“Never be bored.” Noah shrugs. “We thought it was kind of amusing.”

“You could play ping pong in the airport or something.”

“I should take videos of myself playing ping pong in all kinds of weird places,” Finn says. “And then I can Tweet it!”

“Put them on your ‘official’ Twitter,” Kurt suggests, grinning. “But see what else is in there!”

“More shot glasses!” Finn fishes out the five shot glasses, one at a time. “Our room is a very popular room for lots and lots of people drinking just one shot each. Well, except sometimes we use them for ‘Who Can Drink More Than The Doug?’ Answer, by the way, is nobody.”

“But you all keep trying?” Noah guesses.

“Many have tried. Many have failed. Also, many have puked.”

“More puke. We’re sending you back with an anti-emetic, darling,” Kurt muses with a grin. “There’s one more thing in there, though.”

“I don’t know what that thing is that you just said,” Finn says, grinning back. “But I hope it’s not what’s in the bag.” He reaches in and rifles around at the bottom of the bag for a few seconds before coming up with a keychain with a single key on the ring. “Key to the city? Like a superhero gets?”

Noah snorts. “Do we look like we have the authority to do that? Anyway, look at the keychain.”

Finn does, in fact, look at the keychain, holding it close to look at the circle of map. “Hey, is this where we are right now?”

“Upper West Side, in the 70s,” Noah nods. “Wouldn’t use it instead of your phone, but.”

“And the key?”

“Sorry, not to the entire city, darling, but it will get you into these few square feet.”

“Seriously?” Finn asks. “So I could just show up, like, any time?”

“You might want to make sure you know which bus and train to take from the airport first, but, yeah,” Noah grins. 

“I could totally do that. Probably.” Finn pauses. “Maybe. Asshole.”

“Yeah, you like my asshole, asshole,” Noah grins. “Happy birthday, you young thing.”

“Well, you guys were always my cougars,” Finn says. 

Kurt giggles. “That’s us. Cradle-robbers. Happy birthday, darling.”

 

Finn hasn’t had a naked meal since probably four months ago, let alone a naked take-out meal, not since he’d gone to Madison, so it actually ends up making everything feel more _real_ in a way. Not that the actual fucking didn’t feel real, but he’s had dreams about that, and he hasn’t had any dreams about eating Thai food naked. It feels normal and good, and Finn decides he’s just going to be happy instead of kicking himself again about those four months he fucked up.

Also, the Thai food in New York is _really_ good, so that’s something, too.

He hadn’t ever given much thought to the specific things he missed, partially because it hurt too much and partially because he didn’t think he had a right to miss them. Of course he always noticed that little pause, the one where ‘darling’ was supposed to go, but it wasn’t something he could say or do anything about. Hearing it again—a lot, like they can’t make themselves stop saying it, not that he’d want them to—feels almost as awesome as the sex, and sex feels almost as awesome as being able to tell him he loves them in the way he really loves them, not in that brother way they’ve been pretending for the last four months that they feel. 

Once they finish the Thai food and wash up the dishes in the world’s tiniest, teeniest little kitchen, the three of them lie back down on the futon, this time with all the pillows from the lofted bed and a bunch of extra blankets. 

“Okay,” Puck announces, brandishing his iPad. “Calendar.”

“Oh, hang on, mine’s in my bag,” Finn says. He crawls off the futon and pulls his calendar out of the pocket, then climbs back onto the futon. “Ok, now I have it.”

Puck looks confused. “Dude.”

“What?” Finn looks confused right back at him. “It’s my calendar. Ok, it’s one of my calendars, but this is the important one.”

“Oh?” Kurt raises an eyebrow. “How so?”

Finn hands Kurt the calendar without any explanation. Kurt takes it, looking curiously at the bent cover, and then pages through it without a word. His forehead wrinkles a little as he gets to the middle of the calendar, and then he puts it down carefully on Finn’s chest. 

“Darling.” Kurt puts his head on Finn’s shoulder. “We love you.”

“It’s the out-loudest way I was allowed to wait,” Finn says. 

Puck picks it up from Finn’s chest and looks through it slowly, too, before burying his face against Finn’s neck. “Waiting _sucked_ ,” he mumbles.

“It did suck, and I was dumb,” Finn says. “I won’t be dumb this time.”

“Also no more four months.” Noah lifts his head up and pulls up the calendar on his iPad. “You don’t have to go back to school until mid-January.”

“So it’s only like a month this time? And then it’s a few weeks off,” Finn says. “That’s not so bad. I need a pen.”

“Hang on.” Kurt leans over, dangling half off the futon, but when he comes back up, he’s got a pen in his hand. “We won’t be in Lima long, though, because of working, so you’ll have to come out here part of that time.”

“That’s ok? I don’t want to get in the way of your stuff out here, or anything,” Finn asks. That was sort of the whole reason for thinking it was over to begin with. 

Puck rolls his eyes at him. “I don’t think you’re going to get in the way of twenty hours of work, give or take. Unless you have a secret plan to take down Starbucks.”

“I bet Syd’s taken a class about that,” Finn says. “I bet she could give me some pointers. Either her or Gina. She’s got some kind of weird thing going on that I don’t understand, but might have something to do with corporate espionage or whatever.”

“Sounds fun. Or boring.” Puck grins. “I mean, spying on the amount of coffee sold doesn’t sound all that interesting.”

“Which one’s Gina?” Kurt asks lazily. “Is she the singing one?”

“No, that’s Trish. Gina’s Syd’s roommate, but she and Trish are kind of a thing,” Finn explains. “I’m not totally sure what kind of a thing, because they don’t, like, hold hands or whatever, but Trish says they don’t like to give the straight guys a cheap thrill, so it might be more serious than it looks.”

“Darling,” Puck says with a slight frown, “do you know all the lesbians in Madison?”

“Well, I mean, not on a first name basis. Ok, well probably _most_ of them on a first name basis, but there’s some girls who come to the QSA stuff that I don’t know if they’re lesbians or not, so maybe yes and maybe no,” Finn says. “I know Syd, Gina, Trish, Noel—she’s kinda pissed off all the time—and Jill. Jill keeps trying to introduce me to guys at parties, and I keep pretending like I don’t understand why she’s doing it. I think Syd thinks it’s funny.”

Puck has a strange expression on his face, and Kurt tilts his head to the side. “Are you their mascot?” Kurt finally asks, smiling slightly, but his tone is a little weird.

“Maybe a little bit,” Finn says. “Only, now they’re coming to the football games! Well, they came to the last one anyway, the one we lost. Trish had a sign that said ‘Lesbians Jump Around for Eleven’.” He pauses and then grins. “That’s me, by the way.”

“Yes, we were aware,” Kurt says dryly. He looks over at Puck. “Lesbians and butt–slapping, baby.”

Puck shrugs. “What can we do?”

“The lesbians don’t slap my butt! And I don’t slap anybody’s butt!”

“Sometimes they slap _your_ butt, though,” Kurt points out, a little sharply. “All ‘oh, good play’ and then. Butt–slapping.”

“It’s gotten worse,” Puck says, sounding almost gloomy. “First it was just the one guy. Now it’s like three or four of them.”

“Wait, are you jealous?” Finn asks, laughing. “You’re totally jealous. You want a butt–slap, too!”

“No, we want them to stop slapping _you_ ,” Kurt says, and Puck just glowers. 

“Nope, it’s definitely that you guys want butt–slaps, too,” Finn announces, and he grabs Puck and pulls him across his lap. Puck squirms a little, but not like he really means it, and Finn smacks him on his ass with a loud pop. “There! Now you don’t have to be jealous. Kurt’s turn!”

“ _Or_ , we could take all your pants and get ‘do not slap’ embroidered on the seat,” Kurt suggests brightly. “That’d be a nice fashion statement, yes?”

Finn laughs again and doesn’t actually make any move to let Puck out of his lap. Instead, he puts his hand back on Puck’s ass, over the barely–pink mark, and pets it. “I don’t think Coach Meredith will be ok with that, but I guess I could tell him you insisted. I’m not so sure he realizes you’re bossofme, though.”

“It’s only because he hasn’t been formally introduced to K,” Puck says. “Let us come to a few games and he’ll catch on quick.”

“You want to come to my games?” Finn asks. He runs his hand across Puck’s ass and down the back of his thigh. “I’d like that. I’d really, really like that.”

“We heard tickets can be hard to come by, but we thought we might know someone,” Kurt says, looking happier now that the butt–slapping’s been discussed. 

“Any game you want to come to. I’ll, I dunno. Shank people if I have to. I will make it happen,” Finn promises. “It would be really awesome to know you guys are watching me play.”

“Television’s not quite the same,” Puck agrees. “Even if one of them is really big, over at Mad River.”

 

“Wait for the 2,” Noah says as the 1 train pulls in. “Fewer stops between us and doughnuts, that way.”

“It seems wrong that I have to come all the way to New York for doughnuts,” Finn says. 

“Yes, clearly that’s the sole reason you had for traveling here,” Kurt says dryly. 

“It’s good to know where we rank,” Noah laughs. 

“Yeah, but _you_ could come to Wisconsin to visit me,” Finn says. “The doughnuts can’t. Or anyway, they haven’t been willing to so far.”

“Maybe you need to offer them something special.” Noah shrugs. “There, this one,” he adds, pointing to the train just pulling in. “Stand in the door and make sure we all get on.”

Finn stands in the door as instructed, and once they’re on the train, keeps a large enough space cleared that the three of them can stand without coming into contact with strangers. 

“And now I am reminded of why I wouldn’t want to commute downtown instead of across town,” Kurt grumbles slightly, pressing against Noah and Finn both. “Think about it. I bet some people aren’t working today.”

“Some people should be working today,” Finn says. “And stop being on this train.”

“That’s the problem, they’re using this train.” Noah shakes his head. “Only a couple more stops, though. Aren’t you glad we’re on the 2?”

“Yes, I’m thrilled to be on this train,” Finn deadpans. “Nothing makes me happier than being on this train. Except, you know, all the places we could be right now instead of a train. Bed. Bed would make me happier than this train.”

Kurt stifles a laugh. “Darling, we’ve been in or on a bed for nearly all of the past twenty-four hours.”

“So?”

“I think you both have a point,” Noah says, “but now it’s time to go get doughnuts.”

“We could bring the doughnuts back to bed with us,” Finn suggests. “Breakfast in bed. Mike and Tina can take a cab.”

“I think that they might object, sadly,” Kurt says, and Noah’s not sure if Kurt means the sadly or not, because he’s not sure if he would, either. 

“I think they don’t know our address, either, so that might be problematic,” Noah feels obligated to point out as they shuffle off the train and up into the main part of Penn Station. 

“I did text Tina and told her just to meet us at the Krispy Kreme, though,” Kurt says.

“Then I’ll sit at the Krispy Kreme and eat my doughnuts, and I’ll _imagine_ we’re in bed eating doughnuts,” Finn says, grinning. “So, in case you’re wondering what I’m thinking, it’s that. So I guess don’t ask me what I’m thinking once Mike and Tina get here.”

Noah laughs. “I want to see the looks on their faces now. Maybe I _will_ ask you.”

They order four dozen doughnuts, even though they start out planning to just get two dozen, and then find a place to sit and wait on Mike and Tina while they drink their coffee and eat their doughnuts. 

Mike and Tina’s train gets in on schedule, and Kurt spots them first, while Tina’s looking around and Mike’s staring at his phone. 

“There’s no app for locating people. Yet.” Noah grins and shakes his head as Kurt waves one hand over his head and Tina finally spots them, nudging Mike as they walk forward, rolling their suitcases behind them. 

“Hi!” Tina almost yells, smiling widely. “This is so crazy!” She flings her arms around Kurt, then Noah, and finally Finn. Finn lifts her off the ground when he hugs her, then turns to Mike and does the same to him. 

“Hey! How was the train?” Finn asks. 

“Quiet, thankfully,” Mike answers. “We had to get up pretty early to catch it. Crowded, too, though. There was a group of middle schoolers from Maine coming to watch the parade on Thursday.”

“Ouch. Were they good at least?” Finn grimaces like the idea of a train full of middle schoolers is a particularly special hell. 

“No one got kicked off, which one of the chaperones was very concerned about,” Tina laughs. “I did make sure they weren’t on our return train, though. If they were going to be, we were going to change our tickets.”

Noah laughs. “Yeah, did they have those matching T-shirts?”

“Yes!” Mike shakes his head. “Why do the school groups think that’s a good idea? Is it some weird East Coast thing? I don’t remember having to wear matching T-shirts for any field trips. Especially not with the name of the school plastered on them.”

“Bad fashion advice.” Kurt sighs. “It’s tragic, really.”

“East Coast kids get lost more or something,” Finn offers. “Back in Lima, if you got lost, that was your problem. They didn’t coddle us like those East Coast schools.”

“Ready to brave another train?” Noah asks as they stack up the remaining three boxes of doughnuts. “Shouldn’t be as crowded going back uptown, anyway.”

“Sure,” Mike agrees, then stops. “Why the look of heavy thought, Finn?”

“I’m thinking about eating doughnuts naked.”

Mike stares. “What?”

“Darling,” Kurt says, laughing. “You can’t startle people that way. Not _here_.”

“Is there a set location where I am allowed to startle them?” Finn asks. “I can be good if I know where I can and can’t say stuff.”

“On second thought,” Noah shrugs, “at least here they’ll know you aren’t really going to be naked.”

“Oh, I’d never put anything past Finn,” Tina laughs. “Just don’t eat _all_ of the doughnuts.”

“We’ll do our best to prevent such an occurrence.” Kurt shakes his head and directs them back towards the subway. “Are you going to insist on the 2 back up?” he asks Noah. 

“Why not?” Noah shrugs. “It _is_ quicker.”

“Quicker is good,” Mike offers. “Quicker means a faster lunch, right? So where are we compared to where we stayed in May?”

“Relatively speaking, close to where we were in May,” Kurt answers. “But not particularly close to home for us.”

“This city is huge,” Finn says. “You can seriously ride around on a bus or a train all day. I don’t know how the people here remember how to get anywhere.”

“It’d start to stink after awhile. If it didn’t when you first got on.” Noah shakes his head. “Also, there’s an app. Handy things, phones.”

“They usually stink right away. Says the one who _doesn’t_ ride a bus every day.”

“You don’t every day,” Noah teases. “Just the days you go to classes. Or work on that stagecraft class.”

“So every single day.” Kurt sighs dramatically, feigning the best put-upon look he can. “It’s tragic. Very, very tragic.”

“The buses in Madison are all really clean,” Finn says. “I think they clean them with eco-friendly cleaning stuff, too.”

“No sled dog team yet?” Noah asks innocently. 

“Nope. Apparently they don’t really issue those when you go to UW. I do have a lesbian cheering squad, though,” Finn explains. “They’re way better than sled dogs. Plus I don’t have to walk them. Oh, and Syd helps me with my reading if I have questions, or if I can’t pronounce the names.”

“But darling, what are they like in the snow?” Kurt says, blinking his eyes and widening them. 

“Trish is a great musher, but Gina’ll just punch you,” Finn answers. “And don’t even ask Noel. Seriously. Don’t.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” 

“This train?” Tina asks suddenly. 

“Nope, that’s the 1. Problem with getting the 2 is actually getting a 2,” Noah admits. “We always seem to get here right before a 2 comes along. I walk most of the time. It’s probably better that way, or otherwise I’d be ranting about the MTA way too much.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow and grins, squeezing Noah’s hand. “More than you already do, baby?”

“I don’t rant about it that often.”

“That’s a 2, right?” Mike asks. 

“That’s a 2,” Noah confirms, and the five of them pile inside, heading back to the Upper West Side, where they grab take-out before going to the apartment. 

“We borrowed an air mattress,” Kurt says to Tina and Mike as they enter the apartment, “but you’ll have to wait and inflate it just before bed, so we can still walk around in here.”

“It’s sort of like being in a hobbit hole,” Finn explains. “But you get used to it. Sort of. Or you can just spend most of your time on a piece of furniture and you don’t notice so much.”

“I had been going to say it can’t be smaller than a dorm room, but I’m wrong,” Tina admits. “It’s adorable but I didn’t realize just how small!”

“We have a separate kitchen and room for an actual table,” Kurt points out. “Plus a bathtub. Comparatively, we’re living large.” He snorts. 

“Large for very small animals,” Finn says. “Large for, like, mice.”

“Did you just seriously insinuate that we’re mice?” Noah asks. 

“I think he might have.” Kurt shakes his head slowly. “ _Mice_.”

“Hey, how do you think I feel? It’s like I’m Godzilla and your apartment is Tokyo, and I can’t walk to the bathroom without accidentally destroying some weird anime wig shop or whatever,” Finn says. “If I turn around too fast, you won’t have any kitchen table at all!”

“Yes, because we’ve used it so much since you got here,” Noah says wryly, and Tina giggles. 

“Where else would you eat?” she asks, still giggling. 

“Well, I _am_ majoring in furniture,” Finn answers, shrugging. “I’m just saying.”

“Also, blanket science,” Kurt says quietly, smirking at Finn. 

“Straight A blanket scientist,” Finn agrees. “I’m a master of blanketry.”

Tina giggles again, looking between Finn and Kurt and Noah, then sits down on the floor, take-out bag in hand. “So what are we doing after lunch?”

“I have to work later,” Noah says. “I’ve got four or five hours though.”

“We’ve got to meet Aud and Mom and Burt at around four,” Finn says. “Well, mostly Mom and Burt, since Aud isn’t the one who was worried about not being able to find Kurt and Puck’s apartment. I mean, I guess she could be worried, but probably not, since she’s a baby.”

“My very detailed step-by-step directions backfired,” Kurt sighs. “To be fair, though, I had tried sending vague and general ones and was asked for more detail.”

“Ooh, we’ll get to see her,” Tina says, grinning. “I showed my roommate the pictures you all posted on Facebook and she thought it was kind of funny, how much older you are than Audrey.”

“Yeah, one of the guys asked me why you didn’t own up to her being a cousin!” Mike agrees. “Also a lot of comments on the hair.”

“She has awesome hair,” Finn says. “It’s like Kurt’s. It even kind of stands up like that! Her hair is very _wheee!_ ”

“And yet I suspect Carole isn’t trying to get Audrey’s to look like that,” Noah laughs. 

“Doubtful,” Kurt agrees.

“She’s just naturally that awesome,” Finn says. “Lucky girl.”

 

“We have to leave soon to meet Dad and Carole,” Kurt explains to Mike and Tina. “Noah’s going to work at four, so have fun wandering around the Upper West Side, if you want. As long as someone can point you towards Broadway, you can figure out which way is uptown and which is downtown enough to find Noah’s Starbucks, anyway.” 

Mike nods and Tina grins. “Sure! So we should find dinner on our own?”

“Yes, I have no idea what Dad will want the two of us to do.”

“Here, take my key,” Noah offers. “Someone should be here to let me in after work, at least, right?”

“We promise not to leave you standing in the cold,” Kurt assures him before kissing him. “Ready, Finn?”

“Ready to see Aud, anyway,” Finn says. He drapes his arm across Kurt’s shoulders. 

“I’m going to convince Dad to pay for a taxi back,” Kurt says, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t think we want to ride the M60 yet again, with a baby.” They step into the hall and Kurt shuts the door. 

“Be good at work,” Finn says, leaning over to kiss Noah. “We’ll see you later.”

Noah laughs. “I’m never good at work. I’ll bring you coffee, though.”

“That’s like being good,” Finn says, shrugging. 

“Close enough?” Noah offers. The three of them walk together for a block before Kurt and Finn go down to the train.

“I wasn’t kidding about the taxi,” Kurt tells Finn. 

“Yeah, babies on trains don’t seem like a good idea,” Finn agrees. 

“Plus a taxi’d take about half the time.” Kurt shakes his head and they climb onto the train. “I told Dad not to overpack, because the hotel rooms aren’t that large. I don’t know if they listened, though.”

“They pretty much don’t listen to anything we say,” Finn says. He puts his arm around Kurt’s waist and pulls him closer. “Hey.”

Kurt grins up at him. “Hello. And, no, they don’t seem to.”

Finn leans his face against Kurt’s hair and leaves it there, just breathing for a few moments, before he says, “Well, they’re gonna be how they be, I guess. Too old for us to change them.”

“Are you insinuating that our parents are old dogs, incapable of learning new tricks?” Kurt giggles. “We probably shouldn’t tell them that. Do you think they’ll let us kidnap Audrey for a few hours? We can tell them it’s so they can rest.”

“We can take her to the American Girl store and get her started early,” Finn says, in what is as close to a squeal as a man his size can make. “We should buy her one of those baby ones.”

“Dad will _kill_ us.” Kurt smirks. “Let’s do it.” The train ride and subsequent bus ride are as boring as Kurt expected them to be, considering it’s the third time he’s made the same trip in two days. They arrive ten minutes ahead of the scheduled arrival time and make their way into Terminal B to wait. 

“I have this awful feeling that they brought that pack-and-play,” Kurt sighs as they look to see which baggage carousel Burt, Carole, and Audrey’s luggage will be on. “Despite the hotel having a crib available.”

“And her being too little to do a whole lot of playing or, like, moving around too far or anything,” Finn says. “She doesn’t even sit yet. Mostly she just looks squishy and eats and poops and makes that face she makes when she’s pooping. You’ve seen her make that face, right?”

Kurt laughs. “What I particularly like is the look on Dad’s face that immediately follows Audrey’s pooping face.”

“Oh, the nuclear diaper face?” Finn asks. “I love that face.”

“Me too.” Kurt smirks. “I think he forgot about diapers the entire pregnancy.”

“Maybe he thought girls were a self–cleaning kind of baby?”

“He spent enough time wrestling with that changing table monstrosity.” Kurt shakes his head. “Ooh, board says they’re at the gate.”

“Cool,” Finn says. He relocates his arm from around Kurt’s waist to across his shoulders. “I call dibs on Aud.”

“I’ll remember that when she makes the pooping face.” Kurt smiles brightly and leans into Finn for a few seconds before straightening. “They’ll either be here very quickly because the rest of the flight wants Audrey off, or very slowly because of everything they’ve packed.”

“Then I should do this really quick just in case,” Finn says, leaning down to kiss the back of Kurt’s neck. “There. Now I’m ready for parents.”

“The world is never ready for—” Kurt cuts himself off. “I hear a very loud baby.”

“That’s my girl!” Finn says. “Oh, there they are, too! Mom looks really tired.”

“Dad said they were flying out of Toledo so they didn’t have to drive all the way to Columbus, but that meant a layover at O’Hare. That’d make me tired, without a baby.” Kurt shrugs. “I think we were right about overpacking, though.”

A moment later, Kurt sees Burt and Carole approaching. Burt has a carryon over each shoulder and is lugging a baby seat holding an enormous diaper bag. Carole has a screaming, flailing Audrey in her arms and does, in fact, look exhausted. When they come within arm’s reach, Finn plucks Audrey out of Carole’s arms and holds her against his chest, where she immediately stops screaming.

“Audrey likes me best,” Finn announces. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.”

“It’s probably because—” Kurt cuts himself off, again. “Anyway. Yes. Welcome to New York on one of the busiest travel days of the year.” 

Burt sets down all his bags and pulls Kurt into a bear hug. “I don’t know what we were thinking. We should have flown in on Tuesday.”

“This way you got an extra day to work?” Kurt suggests. “Don’t leave your bags unattended, you might be in on Finn’s plot to take over the Upper West Side via coffee.”

“And playbooks,” Finn adds. “Don’t forget those.” He shifts Audrey to his other shoulder and pats her on the back. “Audie-Aud, your brother’s a dangerous football terrorist. Shhhh.”

“Finn!” Carole exclaims, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “Don’t say things like that! Not in an airport, for heaven’s sake.” She looks at Burt and his bags and then nods to herself. “I’ll go find our suitcases. Kurt, can you help me? We checked the stroller and the pack and play as well.”

“Nah, Mom, I’ll come with you,” Finn says. “Bags are my job. Here, Kurt, you can hold Aud, but you have to give her back later, ok?” Finn carefully holds Audrey out in Kurt’s direction.

“I told you, I will as soon as there’s a pooping face,” Kurt reassures Finn, taking Audrey from him and then settling Audrey in his arms. “Hi, Audrey. No, don’t eat clothing, little girl.”

“There’s always a pooping face!” Finn calls over his shoulder as he follows Carole towards the baggage carousels.

“That’s true. There’s pretty much always a pooping face,” Burt agrees. “I forgot how much poop one little baby can make. I swear you didn’t poop that much when you were a baby.”

“I didn’t,” Kurt says airily. “So how was the flight, Dad? She keep everyone awake?”

“She certainly exercised her lungs for the better part of the flight,” Burt says with a grimace. “Didn’t want to nurse, just wanted to complain.”

“I told you, non-stop is worth the extra money. Taxi back?”

“It’ll get us there faster?”

“About half the time, yes,” Kurt agrees, shifting as Audrey starts to whimper. “You’re almost done traveling, little girl. You can stay in a nice room where people will bring your mommy and daddy food and you don’t have to go _anywhere_.” He grins at her. “And tomorrow there’s lots of balloons.”

Audrey doesn’t seem particularly impressed by the thought of balloons, since she starts to grunt, then turns red and makes the pooping face. Luckily, Finn and Carole return, both of them pulling a large rolling suitcase, Finn also lugging the pack and play, Carole pushing the stroller with one hand. 

“Finn!” Kurt says, almost sharply. 

Finn laughs. “She totally pooped, didn’t she?”

“She made the poop face. She doesn’t like balloons.” Kurt holds her out from his body slightly. 

“Well, who does, huh stinky–girl?” Finn asks Audrey, taking her from Kurt. “Aw, she doesn’t smell that bad, do you, Aud? You can’t help it that everything goes right through you!” He cradles her against his chest again, holding one arm in Burt’s direction. “Diaper bag?”

Burt hands over the bag. “You sure you wanna do that, Finn?”

“Hey, I changed those gross tar diapers when she was first born,” Finn says. “I got this. I’m like a diaper–changing professional or something. I’ll be right back!” 

“I suppose he can add that to his furniture major,” Kurt muses under his breath. “Do the two of you want anything to drink before we leave, then?” he asks more loudly, turning to Burt and Carole.

“A glass of wine?” Carole asks hopefully. 

“I think that has to wait for the hotel,” Kurt says, frowning. “Also, I can’t legally buy that, so. Wait. Can you have wine while she’s nursing? Does Audrey get drunk?”

“Oh, no worries. Everything says one drink is fine. Some books even encourage women to drink a beer a day while they’re nursing!” Carole says brightly. 

“It’s good advice for the dads, too,” Burt adds. 

“And perhaps the older brothers,” Kurt says wryly. 

Burt frowns. “Mmhmm. Perhaps.”

“She’s cleeeeeaaaaan!” Finn’s voice carries across the airport lobby. Audrey seems much happier as Finn hands the diaper bag back to Burt. “And nope, you can’t have her back!”

“Oh, we’re kidnapping her on Friday morning,” Kurt says offhandedly to Burt. “You two can sleep in or eat an entire meal in one sitting or something equally wild and adventurous.”

“See, Burt?” Carole beams at Kurt and Finn. “I’m so glad I packed my breastpump!”

“Mom! Don’t say that!” Finn says, pulling Audrey against his chest and looking horrified. “Seriously. We’re in public!”

“Finn, there’s nothing wrong with the natural function of breasts,” Carole admonishes him as they walk outside. “It’s important to use the right terms for body parts around her, too.”

“Mom, come on, you feeding her is cool, just don’t _talk_ about it, geez.” Finn cringes. “You’re my _mom_. You’re not supposed to have body parts.”

“On that note, I’m going to attempt to find a cab driver who doesn’t peel out of here, horrified, at the sight of this many people and this much luggage,” Kurt announces. It does take about five minutes to find a cab, get everyone inside, and the luggage put away. “Hotel Beacon,” Kurt addresses the driver, who nods, and Kurt sinks back into his seat, exhaling loudly. 

Finn puts the arm that’s not holding Audrey around Kurt. “Maybe we can take her to the Park. You think she’d like it?”

“She might like the ducks. Or a carriage ride, if it’s not too cold. No one’s playing baseball now, though, so you’ll have to skip indoctrinating her into baseball–watching for now.” 

“We’ll get around to it eventually,” Finn says, leaning against Kurt and shifting his arm so Audrey can look at both of them. “So, now that she’s less squishy, I think she maybe has your same nose,” Finn declares. “Look at it.”

“It still looks like a baby nose to me,” Kurt admits. “But I think her hair is even taller.”

“No, looks just like your nose. I guess you have a baby nose,” Finn says. “She does have awesome hair, though. It’s gonna be taller than yours.”

“I don’t have a _baby_ nose,” Kurt says indignantly, narrowing his eyes at Finn. 

“Boys, I swear,” Carole says with a shake of her head, turning around from the front seat. 

“What?” Finn asks, sounding faux innocent. “I’m just saying how much my brother and sister look alike! It’s sweet.”

“You’re awful,” Kurt counters. “Baby nose. Hmph.”

When Carole turns back towards the front of the taxi, Finn puts his lips right near Kurt’s ear and whispers, “I’ll tell you I’m sorry later.”

Kurt raises one eyebrow, resisting the temptation to fire back with ‘tell, or show?’, since Burt and Carole are both there and ostensibly listening. 

“Huh? D’you say something, Finn?” Burt asks, sounding slightly groggy. It’s entirely possibly that he dozed off against the taxi door as soon as they pulled away from the airport. 

“Nope. Just telling Kurt I’m sorry I insulted his nose,” Finn says. 

“We’re in Manhattan now,” Kurt offers, trying to change the subject. 

“Already? I guess taxis are a lot faster!” Burt says.

“Yeah, if you sleep in them,” Finn says under his breath. “Isn’t that right, Aud?”

 

After dinner, Mom and Burt decide they need to put Audrey and themselves to bed early, so Finn and Kurt head back to the apartment. Finn wraps his arm around Kurt’s shoulders and pulls him close, because even though it’s not that cold to Finn, it’s probably plenty cold to Kurt, since he’s always cold.

“You know,” Finn says, leaning his head towards Kurt’s ear as they’re walking down the sidewalk. “I’m really sorry about the nose thing.”

“Mmmhmm.” Kurt looks up and shakes his head slowly. “I see how it is. Insulting my nose.”

“No, your nose is a perfect nose,” Finn says. “I was just teasing. You know I like your nose.”

“So you say.” Kurt smirks. “Am I a bad host if I want to send Mike and Tina to stay with Dad and Carole and Audrey?”

“Yeah, probably,” Finn admits. “Couldn’t I just text them or something and tell them to stay out late ’cause I’m apologizing to your nose?”

“Send them to an all-night diner?” Kurt says. “Oh, we’re horrible.”

“Nah, I’m not horrible. Ok, I’m a little bit horrible.”

“You are definitely at least somewhat horrible.” Kurt unlocks the main door to the building and stops at the mailbox. “Oh, how nice. Junk mail.”

Finn looks at the stack of mail in Kurt’s hand and frowns. “Hey! Why do you guys get a catalogue for Vermont cheese?”

Kurt shakes his head. “Noah signed up for some mail-order foie gras or something. I think they sold our address.”

“Yeah, a likely story,” Finn grumbles. “Cheese traitors. And here I was all apologizing and everything.”

“Will it make you feel better if I dispose of the Vermont cheese catalogue?” Kurt asks. “It’s not like we actually order our food from a catalogue, you know.”

“Maybe. A little bit.”

Kurt shakes his head, trying to hide a grin, and dumps the Vermont cheese catalogue in a garbage can, along with all but one other piece of mail. “Better, darling?”

Finn takes his time to look like he’s thinking about it, and then he makes a pouty face and says, “Some better. Not all the way better.”

“You’ll have to bring us cheese at Christmas or something, then,” Kurt says dryly. “Protect us from the invasion of Vermont cheese.”

“All I wanted to do was come back and apologize more about the baby nose thing,” Finn sighs. “Then it was all cheese invasion and there’s all this cheese drama.”

“I didn’t realize cheese was so serious,” Kurt says as they climb the stairs. “I should have kept the contact information and told them we didn’t want their cheese.”

“That’d teach ’em,” Finn agrees. “Think Mike and Tina are back yet?”

“Doubtful,” Kurt decides. “If they went out for an actual meal and not take-out, they’ll be another hour or two at least.”

“So… I could still apologize?” Finn asks, grinning at Kurt. “I do feel really, really awful that I said your nose was a baby nose, even if it sorta does look just like Aud’s.”

“Wouldn’t that be that Audrey’s looks a bit like mine?” Kurt asks, but he’s smiling and nodding a little. 

“A tiny, baby–version of yours,” Finn says. “Squishier and babier than yours, definitely. Yours isn’t a baby nose, like, at all.”

Kurt unlocks the door and walks into the apartment, shedding his coat and shoes immediately. “She does have to breathe while she’s eating, I suppose. But I’m with you.” Kurt shudders extra-dramatically and then starts to take off the rest of his clothes, like it’s automatic or something. Finn shrugs and starts taking his clothes off, too. 

“So, has your nose forgiven me?”

“It’s considering it. It might need a small amount of persuasion.”

“Poor, angry nose,” Finn says. He takes the one step between where he’s standing and where Kurt is, and places a kiss on the tip of Kurt’s nose. “Better?”

“Hmm. Acceptable.” Kurt smirks and runs his hands up Finn’s arms. Finn kisses Kurt’s nose again.

“It really is the best nose.”

“Then I suppose Audrey’s just lucky to have one moderately similar?”

“Definitely she is,” Finn says. He kisses Kurt on his chin. “You’ve also got the best chin.”

“Does that come with a ribbon? Trophy?”

“I’ll have to check my bag later, see what I can come up with,” Finn says. He kisses Kurt along his jaw and down his neck. “Your neck is awesome, too.”

Kurt tilts his head to the side. “So what you’re saying is I should leave ‘neck model’ open as a fallback career?”

“Mmhmm,” Finn mutters against Kurt’s neck, kissing it again and then running his tongue up the side, then back down and across Kurt’s collarbone. “Shoulders, too. Those are just great.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Kurt runs his fingers through Finn’s hair repeatedly. “Neck and shoulders.”

“And arms,” Finn says, kissing Kurt’s upper arm and then moving to kiss the other arm. “Yours are pretty much the best arms.”

“This is a very worthwhile way to spend an evening, I think,” Kurt murmurs. 

“Yeah, just you, me, and all your parts,” Finn says. He presses his face into the middle of Kurt’s chest, slowly lowering himself to the ground, and kisses Kurt there, too. “All of them are good.”

“ _All_ of them?”

Finn puts his arms around Kurt’s waist, palms against Kurt’s back, and runs his hands down Kurt’s lower back and down his ass and his legs. “Yeah. All of them.”

“Show me, darling.”

Finn presses his lips to Kurt’s stomach, hands still on the backs of Kurt’s thighs, Kurt’s cock brushing against the side of Finn’s face. He pulls back enough to run his tongue around the head of Kurt’s cock. His fingers tighten on Kurt’s legs as he lets Kurt’s cock slide across his tongue and into his mouth, moving slowly down until Kurt is as far inside Finn’s mouth as Finn can take him. 

“Oh, god, darling,” Kurt breathes, his fingers tightening in Finn’s hair. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

Finn keeps moving his head, his tongue wrapping around the underside of Kurt’s cock. He slides his hands up to Kurt’s ass, kneading the skin with his fingers as he speeds up the movement of his mouth and tongue. Kurt’s hips rock forward slightly, his legs moving just a bit farther apart, and one hand rests on Finn’s shoulder, some of Kurt’s weight on it. 

“Finn.” Kurt’s voice is low, almost a whisper. “Finn, darling.”

Finn’s hands grip Kurt harder and he moves his head faster, pulling back enough to lap at the head of Kurt’s cock every few movements. Kurt lets more of his weight fall against Finn, his breath coming faster, and his hips push forward again. Finn’s almost holding Kurt up at this point, digging his thumbs into Kurt’s hips, and he can taste that Kurt is getting close. He hears Kurt start humming and Finn gives Kurt’s cock one firm lick with his tongue before he slides his mouth all the way down Kurt’s cock. 

“Fuck!” Kurt thrusts forward once, his hands tugging on Finn’s hair, and comes, leaning against Finn. Finn swallows, still moving slowly until Kurt stops shuddering, then he pulls away, running his hands down Kurt’s legs again. 

“All your parts,” Finn says, grinning. “Just like I said.”

“Mmm. Futon now,” Kurt demands. Finn nods and decides that means he should probably just pick Kurt up and relocate him, so that’s what he does, scooping Kurt into his arms and carrying him the very short distance to the futon.

Once Finn sets Kurt on the futon, he pulls the blanket over him and then lies down, wrapping himself around Kurt. “Better, bossofme?”

“Yes, darling.” Kurt slides one arm around Finn’s waist. “Love you.”

“I love you, too,” Finn says. “How long do you think we can stay naked before Mike and Tina get back?”

“That probably depends on whether you mind Mike and Tina seeing us naked,” Kurt giggles, and his hand moves lower. “At least another half an hour or so, though.”

“Well, I think Mike might be kinda traumatized. Tina would probably think it’s cool, though.”

“Tina would be disappointed if we were _merely_ naked,” Kurt corrects. He curls his fingers around Finn’s cock. “God, darling, you’re so hard.”

Finn closes his eyes and moves into Kurt’s touch. “Yeah, well. I had my mouth on you. It was hot.”

Kurt giggles. “Yes, it was.” Kurt moves his hand more quickly. “Very hot. I approved, as you no doubt realized.”

“Yeah,” Finn answers. “Fuck, Kurt. Your hands are awesome. I think I forgot to mention them before.”

“I’ll let that slide.” Kurt tilts his head up, pressing their lips together, his hand still moving rapidly. Finn opens his mouth and pushes his tongue into Kurt’s mouth, putting one hand in Kurt’s hair. Finn moves his hips, kissing Kurt harder. 

Kurt pulls out of the kiss slowly, his hand moving in time with Finn’s hips, and he puts his lips next to Finn’s ear, not speaking, just breathing steadily. Finn’s getting close, and he hears himself talking quietly, mostly nonsense stuff, lots of “I love you” and Kurt’s name over and over. He knows he’s waiting, but couldn’t say what he’s waiting for if someone asked him. Finn just knows that whatever it is, only Kurt is the one who can give it to him.

“Love you, Finn,” Kurt whispers. “It’s your turn to come for me, now.”

That’s it, that’s what Finn was waiting for. He comes all over Kurt’s hand, making a low cry and bucking his hips. Kurt keeps moving his hand until Finn is still, then reaches behind him before using a towel to wipe his hand off. 

“Wish we could nap,” Kurt admits, brushing his lips across Finn’s cheek. 

“You can nap and I’ll keep an ear on the door,” Finn offers. “I’m not tired and I don’t mind.”

“Okay.” Kurt closes his eyes, smiling slightly. “Check our phones, they might have texted an ETA.”

“Will do, bossofme,” Finn says. He kisses the top of Kurt’s head and holds him closer. It only takes a few minutes for Kurt’s breathing to even out, his body relaxing against the futon and Finn. Finn feels around with his foot until he feels the edge of his jeans and grabs them with his toes to pull them towards the futon. He gets his phone out of the pocket and checks; he has one text from Puck that says _M &T out until at least 10 have fun_ with the little smiley face thingy with the halo. Finn shakes his head and puts down the phone, then tightens his arms around Kurt and lies there, listening to him breathe. 

 

"That's a wrap!" Nathan exclaims as the last customer exits the store and he goes to lock it. Noah shakes his head. 

"Shouldn't you be in Hollywood with your ‘that's a wrap’ talk?" Noah asks. 

"Nah, more and more shows are shooting in New York these days," Nathan argues. "Now get out of here."

Noah pauses in wrapping up the food and raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Get out of here!" Nathan repeats. "You've got guests in town. Go start your Thanksgiving."

"Okay, okay," Noah agrees, laughing. "Thanks, man."

"Just return the favor if we both work New Year's Eve or something."

Noah shakes his head. "Yeah, neither of us work Mondays right now."

"Damn. Good point. Except." Nathan's eyes brighten. "That means I should be off New Year's Eve. Excellent." 

"Later," Noah calls over his shoulder, grabbing his coat before stepping outside. Normally it's still pretty busy when he leaves work on Wednesdays, but with Thanksgiving the next day, the streets are emptier than usual. The walk home doesn't take long, and he pauses outside their door, listening to the laughing inside. He starts to pull out his key, then remembers he let Mike and Tina take it, so he knocks instead. 

The door swings open slowly to reveal a smiling Finn, wearing nothing but a pair of Wisconsin sweat pants. “Oh, hey, Pu—”

Noah cuts him off by putting one hand on the back of Finn’s head and bringing their lips together, kissing him hard and pushing him back into the apartment, shutting the door behind them with his free hand. Finn wraps his arms around Noah’s waist and starts untucking Noah’s work shirt, running his hands across Noah’s sides and then pulling up on the hem. Finn pulls away from Noah long enough to lift the shirt off and then toss it back over his shoulder, then slams his mouth back against Noah’s. 

There’s a giggle that sounds distinctly like Tina, and Noah’s pretty sure Mike’s trying to ignore them. Kurt’s probably just watching with a big grin. Finn doesn’t seem to even notice that they’re being watched, wrapping his arms around Noah’s waist again. 

Noah pulls back and rests his head against Finn’s, grinning. “Hi.”

“You didn’t bring coffee,” Finn says, smiling back at him. “Unless you count as coffee. You taste like coffee.”

Noah laughs and presses his lips to Finn’s ear. “You’re welcome to taste me as much as you like,” he whispers, then pulls back. “Nathan decided since I had guests he’d clean up on his own. See, I’m early instead of having coffee.”

“Ok, early’s better,” Finn says. “You’re better than coffee, definitely.”

“Thanks.” Noah pulls away enough to grab a pair of pants that doesn’t smell like coffee, and he waves at Mike and Tina, pressing a quick kiss to Kurt’s lips before he heads to the bathroom. There’s exhibitionism and then there’s just changing clothes. When he gets back out, Finn’s back on the futon next to Kurt, and Noah drops down on Finn’s other side. Finn puts an arm around each of them and pulls them close. 

“We just started the DVD,” Tina says, gesturing to the television. “We can start it over, if you want.”

It takes a minute for Noah to register that _A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving_ is playing, and then he shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine.”

“Me and Puck have seen it about eight million times, anyway,” Finn says. He rests his head against the top of Noah’s head for a moment. “My mom always put it on for us. She found it on TV every year and we’d sit in there and watch it.”

“And eat Chex mix,” Noah adds. “Don’t forget the Chex mix.” He thinks for a moment before continuing. “I think there’s some chips and salsa in the kitchen. No Chex mix, though.”

“I hope that was an invitation, because I’m taking it as one,” Mike says, standing up and heading into the kitchen, where they can hear him rummaging around for a few moments before he returns with a bowl of salsa and the bag of chips. “There.”

“If I’d thought about it, I could have made Chex mix. I think the instructions are on the box,” Finn says. “But I didn’t think about it, so no Chex mix.”

“That still requires a box of Chex, though,” Kurt says, sounding amused. “Which we don’t have. Ooh, or you could have had a Chex mix carry-on.”

“It’s not a liquid,” Tina says, laughing. “So you could have more than three ounces of it!”

“Or, I guess we could have bought some Chex here. They sell Chex in New York,” Finn says. “Wait, they _do_ sell Chex in New York, right?”

“Yes, darling,” Kurt reassures him, running a hand through Finn’s hair. “Chex, Cheerios, all the cereal you’d expect. We weren’t going to feed you cereal for breakfast while you were here, though.”

“Bagels. You promised us bagels,” Mike breaks in. “Are you going back on your promising of bagels?”

“Nah, we’ll still get you to bagels at least once,” Noah says, laughing. 

“We can have them in the morning, maybe?” Finn asks. 

“They’ll probably be open for at least a few hours.” Kurt shrugs. “Mike, Tina, you can come discover the bagel culture of the Upper West Side, if you like.”

“Sure!” Mike agrees quickly. “Say that sounds _lovely_ , Tina,” he says to her, and Tina laughs. 

“I will make sure Mike doesn’t despair from a lack of bagels,” Tina says. “I promise, Mike.”

“Good.” Mike sighs exaggeratedly. “I am very relieved.”

Finn presses his lips to Noah’s ear and whispers, “I think it’s a plot, and I like it.”

Noah grins and nods, sliding his hand up Finn’s thigh just a bit. “Safe assumption,” he murmurs in return once Mike and Tina are re-absorbed in the hijinks of Charlie Brown. 

 

Kurt turns out the light in the bathroom and uses his phone to navigate through the dark apartment. The blinds are all closed, and Kurt hopes that means it’s dark enough for Tina and Mike to remain oblivious to anything else that might occur in the room. 

He stops at the ladder to the bed and bends close to Finn’s ear, whispering. “Wait a bit and then come up here, darling.”

“Sounds good,” Finn whispers back. 

Kurt climbs up and slides under the blankets, pressing up against Noah, and listens. It’s late, and Mike and Tina both seemed pretty tired. “I told Finn just to wait a few minutes,” Kurt whispers to Noah, who nods. After another minute passes, Noah starts kissing Kurt’s neck, just lightly enough to almost tickle, and Kurt has to stifle a giggle. 

“Think they’re out yet?” Noah wonders. 

“Let’s hope so.” Kurt sighs and listens again, and finally he hears a slight creak from below them that he thinks means Finn is moving. His guess is confirmed when Finn quietly climbs the ladder and into the bed with them.

“Hey,” Finn says, crawling across the mattress until he’s between them. “I miss anything?”

“Noah’s trying to tickle me,” Kurt reports quietly. “Also speculation on how fast they would fall asleep.”

“I wasn’t. Much.” Noah’s arm drapes across Finn, his fingers brushing against Kurt’s chest. “We’re overdressed.”

“They sounded asleep to me,” Finn says. He pushes his sweatpants down and wiggles out of them, tossing them to the foot of the bed. “Is that better?”

“Yes.” Kurt does the same with his own pants, and he can feel more than see that Noah’s removing his as well. “Mmm, that’s better.”

Finn runs his hand down Kurt’s side, over his ass, then down his leg, then he leans forward and kisses Kurt, his tongue pushing slightly into Kurt’s mouth. Kurt runs his fingers through Finn’s hair, his hand resting on the back of Finn’s head, and he opens his mouth more widely under Finn’s lips. Finn’s tongue slides against his, and Finn’s hand moves back to the curve of Kurt’s ass, kneading his fingers into the muscle. 

“Can we be quiet enough?” Kurt whispers. 

“No,” Finn whispers back. “Probably not. Probably I need help being quiet.”

Noah laughs and Kurt buries his face in Finn’s neck. “What if we keep each other’s mouths occupied?” Noah says quietly. 

“I’m up for that.” Kurt raises his head and giggles. “As long as we aren’t _too_ loud.”

Finn rolls to his other side, and Kurt can hear Finn’s mouth on Noah’s, followed by Finn saying something in a voice that’s too low for Kurt to make out the words. There’s an answering murmur from Noah, and Kurt listens to Noah shifting before hearing a quiet but familiar click. Finn rolls back towards Kurt, pushing gently against Kurt’s hip to encourage him to turn over. 

Kurt rolls on his side, putting his hand over Finn’s long enough to squeeze his fingers. After Kurt releases his hand, Finn runs his palm along Kurt’s leg, moving it forward, then trailing his fingertips up the back of Kurt’s thigh. Kurt hears the bottle lid click again, and then one of Finn’s fingers is grazing his entrance, the tip barely pushing inside. Finn starts kissing the back of Kurt’s neck, his tongue making tiny circles as it travels to the juncture of Kurt’s neck and shoulder, and then Finn pushes his finger deeper. Kurt sighs and rocks his hips back, biting his lip to keep from talking. 

Finn’s teeth press lightly into Kurt’s shoulder as Finn gasps and then makes a low moan. His finger starts to move inside of Kurt, slowly at first, and as Finn moves his finger faster, his moans get louder. 

“Finn,” Kurt hisses, “don’t make a sound.”

Finn’s moans cut off abruptly, and he presses his lips against the side of Kurt’s neck. He also withdraws his finger, then pushes two back inside, his whole body rocking against Kurt as he moves his hand— all completely silently. Kurt bites down hard on his own lip, holding back his own moan, and he’s reminded that he really could tell Finn to do _anything_ and that would be all he had to do. 

After another few minutes pass, Finn exhales sharply, but still doesn’t make a sound as he slips his fingers out of Kurt, replacing them almost immediately with his cock. He pushes forward, his hand wrapping around Kurt’s cock as he thrusts into him. Kurt presses his lips together and shifts back, into Finn’s movements. Finn’s angle changes slightly, and Kurt whimpers. In response, Finn other arm moves until it’s under Kurt, and Finn presses his palm against Kurt’s mouth, forcibly holding him silent. Kurt would whimper again, if he could, and he rocks into Finn’s hand and then back against Finn. 

Finn continues to hold Kurt tightly as he thrusts into him, and Finn’s mouth finds the side of Kurt’s neck again. He alternates between gently biting and licking at Kurt’s skin, his thrusts speeding up, and his hand moving faster on Kurt’s cock. Finn’s breathing is loud against Kurt’s ear, almost panting. Kurt can feel Noah’s fingers against his side, and he does wonder how Noah’s keeping himself quiet. Kurt moves against Finn a little faster, feeling himself getting close.

Finn’s hand suddenly presses harder against Kurt’s mouth, his hips snapping forward faster, and Kurt nips at Finn’s palm. Finn’s hand tightens on Kurt’s face, his teeth sink into the crook of Kurt’s neck, and he thrusts forward one more time, his whole body shuddering against Kurt’s. Finn’s hand keeps moving on Kurt’s cock, and Kurt bites Finn’s hand again as he comes. He can feel the moment as Noah comes, just seconds later, and Kurt leans his head back against Finn’s shoulder. 

Finn exhales loudly, his hand dropping away from Kurt’s face to pull him closer, and Kurt can feel him snuggling back against Noah as well. The three of them lie there for a moment before Kurt can hear the distinct sound of Tina giggling. 

“That was hot,” she whispers a moment later. 

Kurt can feel himself start to laugh, and he rolls over, stifling his laughs against Finn’s chest and grabbing Noah’s hand to squeeze it hard. Finn presses his face to Kurt’s head and his shoulders shake slightly, but he still doesn’t make any noise. 

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Noah whispers a few seconds later, and Tina giggles again. 

“Good night, boys!” she says, and Kurt can hear the squeak of the air mattress as she turns over. 

“Guess we have an audience after all,” Kurt says very softly, hoping it doesn’t carry. “Finn?”

Finn makes a soft sound, barely more than a puff of air, in response. 

“Mmm. You can make noise now, you know,” Kurt whispers.

“Oh, thank _fuck_ ,” Finn says, all in a rush. His hands start traveling over Kurt’s body again. “I tried really hard to stay quiet.”

“I know, darling.” Kurt presses kisses along Finn’s collarbone and then up his neck, and Noah laughs softly. 

“You want to put on a show, don’t you, blue eyes?”

“Yeah, he does,” Finn says, still keeping his voice low. “You should feel him, Puck. He’s already hard again.”

Noah’s hand brushes against Kurt’s cock just after that, and Kurt lets himself cry out quietly as Noah’s fingers curl around him. “I need two cocks,” Kurt mutters. 

“Oh?” Noah laughs.

“That would be kind of weird,” Finn says. 

“But then I could fuck both of you at the same time,” Kurt attempts to explain.

Noah’s laugh is even louder, and if Tina was almost asleep, Kurt’s pretty sure she isn’t now. 

“Oh, yeah, that would be kind of cool,” Finn says. “It might be hard to find pants, though.”

“Fashion or fucking, K.” Noah moves his hand slowly up and down Kurt’s cock. “There’s a dilemma for you.”

“If we fuck enough, I don’t have to get dressed,” Kurt says. “But I suppose that’s not practical.”

“I think it sounds _awesome_ ,” Finn says. “You know, I don’t _really_ need to see that parade, you guys.”

Kurt giggles and pushes at Finn’s chest. “Roll over, darling.”

“Ok, bossofme.” Finn rolls onto his other side, and Kurt hears him kissing Noah for a moment before saying, “Hey, baby.”

“Hi, darling,” Noah answers quietly, and Kurt runs his hand down Finn’s back while he reaches for the corner of the bed with his other hand, trying to guess where the lube might have landed. Finn presses the bottle back into Kurt’s hand.

“It was under me,” Finn says.

Kurt giggles and pours some into his palm before handing it back to Finn. He coats his cock and then slowly presses into Finn, his hands on Finn’s shoulders. “Mmm, you feel good, Finn.”

“Doesn’t he?” Noah answers. “Nice and hot and tight for you, blue eyes.”

Finn’s hips rock forward suddenly, and he whispers, “Fuck. Puck, baby.”

“Yeah. K’s going to fuck us.” Noah reaches behind him and finds Kurt’s hand, pulling it forward until Kurt can wrap his fingers around Noah’s cock. 

“Yes, my loves,” Kurt agrees, thrusting into Finn and moving his hand on Noah with the same rhythm. 

Finn starts quietly muttering to himself, his lips obviously pressed against Noah’s neck or shoulder, because the words are slightly muffled. “Oh, god, Kurt, fuck, oh fuck, Puck baby, fuck, fuck.”

Kurt speeds up, pushing in harder, and he puts his lips to Finn’s back, murmuring against Finn’s skin. “Come for me, darling.”

Finn cries out, probably louder than he even realizes, and rocks back against Kurt, tightening around him before rolling his hips forward towards Noah. Kurt speeds up his hand on Noah, and Finn’s hand wraps around Kurt’s, moving with him. Kurt can feel Noah coil up before he comes, and Kurt pushes fast into Finn a final time as he comes as well. 

“Love you guys,” Finn says, through heavy breaths. “Love you both so much.”

“Love you, too,” Kurt replies, and he can hear Noah echoing him. 

“Finn?” Noah murmurs after a moment. 

“Hmm?”

Kurt can practically hear the grin on Noah’s face. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

 

When Puck’s alarm goes off way too early for Finn’s comfort, Finn turns his face to bury it in Kurt’s hair, and whines, “Make it not be noisy.”

“Time to get up,” Puck says, sounding way too cheerful. “So we can be very American.”

“I know,” Kurt says, sighing. “I know what you’re thinking, darling. It’s true.”

Finn lifts his face from Kurt’s head enough to turn it in Puck’s direction. “Asshole.”

Puck just laughs. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Won’t have to ask if Mike and Tina are awake,” Kurt mumbles. “I need coffee and bagels. And wool.”

“So, the bagels and sheep store?” Finn asks. “New York has everything.”

“No, no sheep. Just wool. Because it’s cold. You can tell. That is a cold sunshine.” Kurt points accusingly at the light around the blinds. “See?”

“It’s not December first, yet,” Puck says, laughing again. “Still going to accept gracefully the first snowfall?”

“Hmph.” Kurt rolls over and puts his pillow over his head. Finn curls up behind Kurt, draping his leg and arm across him and pulling him close.

“I’ll keep you warm. We’ll ignore Puck. He’s an asshole,” Finn says, rubbing his nose against Kurt’s neck. “We can send him to the parade to get cold and I’ll just stay here and be your blanket.”

“ _You’re_ an asshole,” Puck retorts, sliding his hand down Finn’s back and squeezing his ass before his arm stretches across Finn and does the same to Kurt. Then Puck drops down from the bed, and it’s clear he’s smirking. “Yeah, this is a nice view.”

Kurt wiggles his ass in response, and Finn laughs. “Poor Mike,” Finn says. 

“Are you guys trying to get me back for last night?” Mike says, sounding half-asleep. “I’m sorry. Tina woke me up, we tried to be quiet—”

Puck starts to chuckle, effectively cutting Mike off. “That might be more than we wanted to know.”

“Leave them alone, Mike,” Tina orders. “Remember, Kurt promised us bagels.”

“I will take you to the bagels,” Kurt says, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Get dressed. And there will be bagel–going.”

“You’re so grumpy, bossofus,” Finn says, lifting the edge of Kurt’s pillow. “Do you have to get dressed for bagel–going, too? ’Cause you’ll be cold if you go out like that.”

Kurt opens one eye and stares at Finn. “Yes. I would be. So I do.” He starts to yawn and stops himself. “You two stay here and I’ll bring you bagels. You will make me coffee.”

“Ok, I’ll do that. Text me when you’re on your way back and your coffee will be waiting,” Finn says. He kisses the side of Kurt’s neck and then crawls partly on top of him to kiss his throat. “Wish we didn’t have to be social.”

Kurt nods. “Me too.”

“Mike and Tina are really hungry, apparently,” Puck announces. “K, they’re practically running to the bathroom.”

“So I gotta get off of you, huh?” Finn grumbles. “Bleh. I don’t like that. Ok, don’t I have pants up here somewhere? I should get those.” He rolls off of Kurt and starts feeling around the blankets for his sweatpants, which he locates and pulls on. 

Kurt sighs and nods, climbing down from the bed without bothering to find his own pants. “I’ll change later,” he mutters to the room at large as he puts his clothes on. He walks over to the door and puts on his coat, hat, gloves, and scarf on as Mike and Tina emerge from the bathroom. “Ready?”

“Yes!” Tina answers for both of them, enthusiastically. 

“Right. We’ll be back in a bit,” Kurt says, still looking a little bit asleep, and then the door closes behind the three of them. Finn climbs down from the bed and flings himself onto the futon next to Puck.

“Hey.”

Puck grins and moves the blankets lying on him to the side. “Hey, asshole.”

“You’re the asshole, asshole.” Finn puts one arm around Puck’s waist and hauls him into his lap. “C’mere.”

“Here I am,” Puck says, putting his head on Finn’s shoulder. “Missed you.”

“I was up on that bed for like five years, dude. It was terrible,” Finn says. He leans his head against Puck’s. “The climb down took, like, forever.”

“Shut up, asshole,” Puck mumbles into Finn’s neck. “You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know what you meant,” Finn says softly. “I missed you, too. Never been away from you that long since I met you, you know? It’s… weird.”

“Really fucking weird,” Puck agrees.

“Sometimes I don’t think about it, and I’ll, like, holler out the door for you guys, and then I’m all, oh, shit. They can’t hear me from New York.” Finn’s arm tightens around Puck’s middle. “There’s a lot of stuff you couldn’t hear from New York, mostly because I’m shit at saying it.”

“You’re here now,” Puck says, sounding like that’s the only thing that really matters. “You’re right here.”

“Yeah, I am. I’m not fucking it up again,” Finn says. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll make it work.”

“Transporters would help, though,” Puck says wistfully.

“Faster, anyway,” Finn agrees. “Fuck, it’s already going by too fast. It’s already Thursday.”

“Yeah. Definitely too fast.” Puck sighs. “But it’s only a month. And we all have finals.”

“And I’ve got that football thing, at least for a little while longer.”

Puck laughs. “Football thing. Right.” He lifts his head up and kisses Finn softly. Finn brings his other hand up to cup Puck’s face, holding the kiss a little longer before pulling away.

“You’ll come watch me next year?” Finn asks.

“Yeah. Just didn’t expect you to play this year, since most of the time they talk about paying your dues and shit.” Puck shrugs and starts kissing Finn again, moving his lips up Finn’s jaw. 

“Mmm. Yeah, me either. It just sorta happened.” Finn slides his hand down Puck’s chest until his fingers brush against the head of Puck’s cock. Puck moves his hips forward and tucks his head back into the crook of Finn’s neck, letting out a low whine. Finn wraps his fingers around Puck’s cock and slowly moves his hand down, holding Puck back against his chest with his other arm. 

Puck moves his head slightly, enough that he can kiss Finn’s neck, nipping at it gently. “S’good,” he says quietly, moving his hips slightly.

“You’re good,” Finn says, shifting Puck across his lap so Finn has him almost cradled in his arms, hand still moving on Puck’s cock. 

Puck wraps his arms around Finn, one hand resting on the back of Finn’s head and pulling Finn down to kiss him. Finn opens his mouth against Puck’s, letting their tongues touch. Finn deliberately slows the movements of his hand on Puck’s cock, tightening his fingers slightly. Puck whines again, into Finn’s mouth, and he tugs on Finn’s hair. 

Finn pulls his mouth away from Puck’s, their lips still just touching. “What do you want, baby?”

“You inside me,” Puck says quickly, not even pausing to think about his answer. Finn presses another quick kiss to Puck’s lips, then rolls them both to the side, setting Puck down on the futon and urging him onto his hands and knees. Finn reaches along the side of the futon for one of the bottles of lube that he knows has to be down there; it only takes him a half a second to find one.

Finn pours some lube into his hand and sets the bottle down, then uses his other hand to pull his sweatpants down off his hips. He slicks his cock and then pushes smoothly inside of Puck. “Like that? Is that what you want?”

Puck exhales and nods. “Harder, Finn.”

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. He grips one of Puck’s hips in one hand and starts thrusting harder. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good, you feel _so_ fucking good.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Puck breathes, his hips rocking back to meet Finn’s thrusts. “Just… fuck, darling.”

Finn leans forward, resting his chest against Puck’s back as they move. He kisses the back of Puck’s neck and his shoulders, letting his hand find Puck’s cock again. “Love you, baby. So much, so much,” Finn murmurs against Puck’s shoulder. “Puck, baby, love you.”

“Love you, too,” Puck says, his body shaking a little. “Fuck, Finn, you’re— more, please.”

Finn doesn’t answer, but he thrusts harder into Puck, pounding into him, his hand moving faster on Puck’s cock. He presses his lips against the back of Puck’s neck, kissing him, biting at him, making sounds that don’t start out as words, but gradually turn into, “Yes, fuck, _mine_ , Puck, mine, baby, love you, love you, come on, come now, mine, mine, mine.”

Puck cries out and comes hard, tightening around Finn and covering Finn’s hand. Finn’s barely a second behind him, snapping his hips forward and filling Puck, kissing the back of Puck’s neck as he slumps against him. Puck eases them down onto the futon, curling up under Finn. Finn reaches for the blanket and pulls it over the both of them, trying to remember to make a mental note that maybe that blanket should go into the laundry after. 

“Hey,” Finn says softly into Puck’s ear. 

“Hi,” Puck mumbles.

“Now I want bagels.”

Puck snorts. “I see how it is. I’m just the appetizer.”

“Nah,” Finn says, burrowing his face into Puck’s neck. “You’re the main breakfast. That’s, like, second breakfast.”

“Uh-huh.” Puck runs his fingers through Finn’s hair, almost petting him. “Asshole.”

“It’s true. Asshole.” Finn closes his eyes. “If my phone makes a noise, it means I have to make Kurt’s coffee, ok?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Puck’s hand stops moving, just resting on Finn’s head. “Coffee’s a good plan. Fortify ourselves for the parade.”

“Or we could just stay right here until my phone dings.”

“One doesn’t rule out the other.”

“One doesn’t… _not_ … rule…" Finn trails off. “Something out. Whatever. Asshole.” He holds Puck tighter. “Less talking.”

Puck chuckles. “Mmkay.”

 

“Kurt,” Tina says, her voice low. “Does Finn ever let anyone else hold Audrey?”

Kurt stifles a giggle. “Not really, no. I got to hold her for a few minutes when he got the bags yesterday, but then she pooped.” He wrinkles his nose and looks over at Finn and Audrey, though Audrey is mostly hidden inside the puffy pink snowsuit Carole insisted Audrey had to wear when outside. Finn looks more like he’s clutching a fat pink starfish than holding a baby, actually, and that’s after Finn ditched the extra blankets Carole was attempting to insist upon.

“Changing poopy diapers is my _job_ ,” Finn announces. “Well, one of my jobs. Working out, lifting heavy stuff, and changing poopy diapers. Those are my jobs. Mostly the first one these days.” He shifts Audrey in his arms so her face is turned towards the parade route. 

“Is Audrey doing okay, Finn?” Burt calls over. “Does she seem hungry or anything?”

“She’s fine, Dad,” Finn answers. “Look. Happy sea creature baby!” He turns slightly so Burt can see Audrey’s little round face, the only part of her not entirely engulfed in the snowsuit.

“Well, let me or your mom know if she needs something, alright?”

“Yes, Dad. She’s _fine_. She likes me best, anyway,” Finn adds, muttering the last under his breath. 

Kurt pokes Finn in the side and rolls his eyes. “Not _everything’s_ a competition. If it were, though, Dad would win for ‘worrying over absolutely nothing’.”

“No, who Audie-Aud likes best is definitely a competition,” Finn insists. “And I’m winning.”

Kurt rolls his eyes again and turns back to Tina. “The answer is no. Sometimes there’s just enough people to overwhelm him temporarily.”

“It’s sweet,” Tina insists. “He’ll probably want your parents to have another one.”

Kurt shakes his head, but Noah answers. “Shh. You’ll put ideas in their heads.”

“I’m not sure Dad can stand another pregnancy, actually,” Kurt says. “Though at least the changing table is no longer in pieces.”

“When does Santa come by?” Mike asks out of the blue. 

“At the end. He and the Armadillo,” Noah deadpans.

 

“Oh. My. _God._.” Finn’s eyes widen in horror as he takes in the crowd inside the American Girl store. 

Noah smirks and wishes he had his phone out, to get a picture of Finn’s face, and Kurt laughs. 

“It’s Black Friday, darling,” Kurt says. “What did you expect?”

“I’ve never Black Fridayed. I thought, I dunno. Kids’ store?”

“Kids’ store in New York City with very popular items,” Noah says. “I guess we might as well look for Hannah’s Hanukkah stuff while we’re here, though.”

“Girl… of… the… year,” Finn reads, squinting to read the poster on the far end of the store. “Oh, Puck, it says that one’s only here until December! Does Hannah have that one? You should get her that one, dude. It’s, like, _limited_!”

“No. Noooo.” Noah shakes his head. “Then what will happen in January? She’ll want the girl of the year for 2013, too.”

“Do they do that every year?” Finn looks either impressed or horrified. “That’s a good marketing stunt!”

“Every year.” Noah shrugs. “They retire some of the other ones, too.” He looks around and points off to the side. “That says the baby-dolls are upstairs on the third floor.”

“Ok, you guys can help form a perimeter, and we’ll see if we can get over there,” Finn announces. He double-checks the baby carrier on his chest, and once he’s confirmed that Audrey isn’t in danger of falling out, he takes Kurt and Noah both by the hand. “We’ll move forward on three.”

“Are we shopping or on a secret mission?” Kurt asks. “Because I’m not sure right now.”

“Secret shopping mission?” Noah says. 

“Hmm. Yes. Good thing we didn’t disclose our destination.” Kurt grins. 

“This is _enemy territory_ , guys,” Finn says. “Did you see those ladies’ faces? That’s terrifying. Ok, one… two… _three_.” He starts walking in the direction of the escalators, pulling Noah and Kurt along with him. 

“They do seem slightly puzzled when they look at us,” Kurt says, laughing as they reach the escalators. “I suppose we aren’t the typical shoppers.”

“Yeah, but I bet that woman we saw back in March would remember us,” Noah says wryly. “She was way too happy to ‘help’.”

“It’s kind of creepy, all those dolls in those boxes, just staring at us,” Finn says. “Don’t look, Aud. It’s scary. Oh, wait, she’s asleep, guys.”

“Now whatever we buy will be a surprise.” Noah laughs as they step off the escalator and dodge by the line of people waiting to have their picture taken for something. 

“The dolls are just waiting for us to leave. It’s the story Pixar couldn’t tell. _Curse of the American Girls_ ,” Kurt says flippantly. 

“Oh, now I’m _really_ creeped out,” Finn says, visibly shuddering. “Dude.”

“Are the baby ones less creepy?” Noah asks, gesturing around them. One of the women shopping turns around and gives the three of them a strange look that, interestingly, only gets stranger once she spies Audrey in her carrier.

“I find the twin dolls a bit disturbing, but that’s not their eyes,” Kurt admits.

“The baby–baby ones are ok,” Finn says. “The twin–babies are too… I don’t know. They look too much alike. It bothers me. I like the little babies, though.”

“Dad’s going to kill us,” Kurt says almost gleefully. “Look at all the different outfits.”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely going to kill you,” Noah agrees. “Mom was already a little bit on the side of ‘why?’ and Hannah’s older.”

“Oh my _god_ , you guys!” Finn practically squeals. “They have a snowsuit thing that looks _just like Aud’s_!”

“That means there are actually other people that force things like that on their children.” Kurt looks horrified. 

“We can’t forget to stuff her back into it before we meet up with them,” Noah says.

“She wouldn’t fit in the carrier in that thing. Baby carriers are for babies, not little miniature Patrick the starfishes,” Finn says. “Poor Audie-Aud. People can’t even see that there’s the world’s cutest baby under there when she’s wearing that thing. All they can see is her perfect little Kurt–nose,” he adds, cutting his eyes over at Kurt and grinning.

Kurt huffs but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge Finn’s comment. “Here, Finn, there’s a diaper bag set for the doll.”

“Should we pick out the doll first, do you think?” Finn leans over to look at the diaper bag set, putting his hand behind Audrey’s head so it doesn’t flop forward. “I think I’ll pick one out and then get the right kind of stuff for it. Help me decide which one.” Finn wanders over in front of the doll display.

“Are we trying to find the one that looks the most like her?” Noah asks. 

“Is that what we’re supposed to do? We could get her the little Tina–looking one,” Finn says. “She likes Tina. I mean, it seems like she does. She doesn’t scream or anything when Tina holds her.”

“I think we’d make Tina melt into a puddle of Tina–goo if we did,” Kurt says. 

“Mike might not like that.” Noah laughs. “As long as Tina un-melts, we’d be fine, though.”

“So, this baby or the one with the blue eyes? I think Aud’s gonna have blue eyes.” Finn stares at the doll like choosing the right one is a matter of life and death. “Maybe the blue eyed one. Aww, this one has red hair!”

“Get the one that looks like her,” Noah says. “She’ll get a kick out of it when she’s older.”

“It also might soften the blow a little with Dad.” Kurt grins and shakes his head. “We’ll pick out outfits, too.”

Finn moves boxes around until he finds the doll he’s looking for, tucking the box under his arm. “Ok, doll, check. And I have to get the snowsuit. Maybe that diaper bag thing.”

“Here.” Noah grabs one of the shopping bags and hands it to Finn. “You’ll want this.”

“And they want you to have one.” Kurt steps towards the outfits, looking through them carefully.

“Maybe I’ll just buy until the bag is full,” Finn says. 

“Yes, they definitely want you to have one.” Kurt picks up one of the outfits and tilts his head. “When she’s bigger, she can dress like the doll.”

“I’m sure there’s a younger kid with a doll out there,” Noah says, “but probably not many.”

“Well, they don’t make smaller ones, or I’d get her that one,” Finn says. “Do you think her doll needs, like, feeding sets or whatever? They have lots of sets.” He sounds almost mystified by the variety of doll accessories. 

“Well, we’ve got various gift–giving occasions to get them, right?” Kurt says. 

“Hey, and you know where they’re headquartered?” Noah asks. 

“Here? This is the biggest doll store in the world, I think, so probably here.”

“Nope. Middleton, Wisconsin.”

“Oh, that’s right near me!” Finn says. “Oh, wait. That’s… _bad_ , dude!”

Noah laughs. “Not for them.”

“We probably skew their demographics wonderfully,” Kurt says proudly.

“Well, I don’t know about demographics or whatever, but this could be really bad if I start buying Audrey all the doll stuff!” Finn says.

“Bad for whom?” Kurt asks, raising an eyebrow.

“My wallet, dude. My wallet. Maybe you should set a doll budget for me and tell me I have to stick to it, and then I have to, ’cause, _bossofme_!”

“Finn’s doll budget,” Noah says, managing not to laugh, as Audrey starts to fuss. 

“Perhaps we should start by checking out?” Kurt says.

“Yeah, I think she probably needs a diaper,” Finn says. “I bet she’s hungry, too. We’ll buy all her doll stuff and then I’ll change her.” He smiles at Kurt and adds, “You can feed her if you want to.”

“Ooh, write that down, too,” Kurt says to Noah, laughing. “But yes, she probably does need both of those things.”

The line moves faster than Noah expects, and then Finn disappears into the bathroom to change Audrey before they walk the half a block to the Starbucks at Rockefeller Center. Audrey enthusiastically eats while Kurt holds her and Noah and Finn get drinks for the three of them. It’s crowded, but they manage to find enough seats, probably because of Audrey.

“She is so sweet,” an older woman says as she’s clearing her trash off the table for them to sit down. Finn and Noah approach with the coffee, and the woman’s eyes seem to dart between Audrey in Kurt’s arms, the baby carrier on Finn’s chest, and the diaper bag over Noah’s shoulder. She doesn’t look at any of the three of them directly when she asks, “Is she yours?”

“Yep, she’s ours!” Finn declares, setting his cup on the table and then Kurt’s cup in front of Kurt. 

“Oh, well, that’s.” The woman’s smile falters and then reappears, a little too bright. “Well, that’s very nice for you boys.”

Noah exchanges a look with Kurt, who’s pressing his lips together and clearly trying not to laugh or smile. Noah waits until the woman is out of hearing distance before he says, “Nope, actually, we stole her. It’s our dastardly plan, stealing babies so we can take them to American Girl.”

Now Kurt does burst out laughing. “Noah!”

“We didn’t steal her, we borrowed her,” Finn protests. “Is she done eating? Can I have her back now?”

“You are more than welcome to burp her and have her spit up down _your_ back, yes,” Kurt says, setting the now–empty bottle on the table before passing Audrey to Finn.

Finn reaches into the diaper bag, now dangling off the back of Noah’s chair, and retrieves a burp cloth, which he drapes over his shoulder before putting Audrey on it. “That’s why you use the burp thing. No pukies, huh Audie-Aud? No way, no pukies for us!” He places his hand on Audrey’s back and rubs it in a circle, then pats her a few times. Noah’s not sure how he manages to make a circle, because Finn’s hand is basically the size of Audrey’s back. 

“I’m a horrible person,” Kurt says sadly. “Because now I really, really want Audrey to puke all down his back.”

Noah laughs. “Yeah, but his hand is the size of her back.”

“True.” Kurt sighs. “I have a feeling that if he positioned his hands just right, we wouldn’t be able to see Audrey at all.”

“Hidden baby,” Noah agrees.

“Crouching tiger,” Finn retorts. “There, now she’s a happy girl.” Audrey does, in fact, seem much happier, after the combination of a fresh diaper, a bottle, and a burp. She stares over at Kurt and makes her thoughtful face. Kurt suppresses a laugh and pulls out his phone, quickly taking a couple of pictures. 

“Look,” he says, holding his phone out towards Noah. “Now we have their matching expressions preserved.”

Noah laughs. “Yeah, we do.”

“What expression? I want to see!” Finn leans over to look at the phone. “I don’t see it. I still think she looks like Kurt.”

“It’s around the eyes,” Kurt insists. “It’s like you’re both thinking very hard.”

“Well, I don’t think I ever see myself making that face,” Finn says. 

“You don’t tend to do your thinking in front of a mirror,” Noah says, smirking. 

“That’s true. You don’t.” Kurt nods. “If you did, you might see it.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I do enough thinking to have a chance to see it in a mirror. It mostly happens accidentally.”

 

The subway to Penn Station is crowded, but they find two seats next to each other. Finn and Puck sit down, Kurt across their laps, and before the doors even close, Puck’s kissing the side of Finn’s neck, and Finn has one hand sliding up underneath Kurt’s shirt. They ride like that, fingers brushing against each other’s backs and stomachs, lips on necks and the sides of faces, the three of them tangled up in their seats, until they reach their stop. 

Finn drapes his arms across their shoulders as they exit the subway, pulling them close for their walk towards his train to Newark, where he’ll pick up his rental car and drive to Penn State for the game on Saturday. Kurt already programmed the directions to both the hotel where the Badgers are staying and the stadium into Finn’s phone, and Puck gave him check in points that Finn has to call from to let them know he’s making good time and not driving himself into a ditch. Everything’s ready for the trip, except for the whole part where Finn doesn’t want to leave, ever.

They find a bench to sit and wait on, since the train isn’t even due for another fifteen minutes. Finn pulls Kurt against his chest, tightening his other arm around Puck, and he buries his face in Kurt’s hair, breathing slowly for a minute before saying, “I could drop out. I could be a busboy or something. They’re probably allowed to be bigger in New York.”

“I always wanted a kept boy,” Kurt says. “You’d probably get bored, though, darling.”

“I’d never get bored being your kept boy. That sounds like a good job. I can stay, I can do that job. That can be my job instead,” Finn says. He knows he sounds a little frantic, maybe even a little desperate, but it’s how he feels and he can’t not sound that way.

Puck leans into Finn’s shoulder and nods against it. “I think it’d make us cutting edge or something.”

“Avant-garde, even,” Kurt says brightly.

“I don’t want to get on the train,” Finn says quietly. “I don’t want to wait a month.”

“No,” Kurt agrees. “We’ll— it’s not as long. It’s just a month.”

“We have to study, all of us,” Puck says. “It’ll keep us busy.”

“We’ve still got a couple games. That’ll help, right?” Finn asks, hoping that if one of them tells him the answer is yes, he can act like it’s true.

Puck nods. “Yeah. It’ll help.” He laughs a little. “You could pretend to be Jewish and find the Jewish people at Madison and have latkes in a couple of weeks.”

“Maybe one of my lesbians is Jewish. She can take me to eat latkes,” Finn says. He sighs loudly, and moves his face to the top of Puck’s head. “As long as it’s not Noel.”

“It seems unlikely that someone named Noel would be Jewish,” Kurt says. “You should make some snow–Finns, too.”

“And throw a few snowballs at Syd,” Puck says. 

“Yeah, and she’ll hold my face down in the snow, probably,” Finn says, laughing. “I’ll get her to take some pictures.” He kisses Puck’s temple, nudging his face up so he can kiss Puck’s lips. 

“And send them to us,” Kurt says as Finn and Puck kiss. 

“Remember, we have Syd’s number now,” Puck says, pulling back just enough to speak. 

“Don’t break my Syd.”

“Don’t withhold photographic evidence,” Puck retorts.

“That’s your train,” Kurt says softly after the loudspeaker crackles and the board changes. 

“I don’t want it to be my train,” Finn says. “Make it be somebody else’s train, ok?” He turns his head towards Kurt, pressing their lips together. As he pulls away, he whispers, “I love you. Ok? I love you.”

“Love you, too, darling,” Kurt says, taking Finn’s hand and squeezing it. 

Finn turns back to Puck, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to not do anything stupid like start tearing up. “I love you, too, Puck,” he says, voice shaky. “I love both of you, and it’s just a month. It’s not goodbye this time.”

“Love you,” Puck says quietly, his head still on Finn’s shoulder. “A month from today. The twenty-third.”

“It’s in my calendar,” Finn says. “Ok, guys. Ok, I’ve gotta do this.” He slowly starts to rise to his feet, arms still around them. “Watch me play tomorrow?”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Kurt answers as the two of them straighten. “We’ll call you after you win.”

“ _If_ I win,” Finn says, smiling at them. “But call me anyway.”

“When,” Puck says, smirking. “When you win.”

Before Finn steps towards the train, he pulls Puck to him, kissing him hard. After he releases Puck, Finn turns to Kurt and does the same, running his fingers through Kurt’s hair before he breaks away. Finn puts his bag over his shoulder and takes a deep breath, then he turns and walks onto the train. It’s only a month from today. Just a month, and this time he kissed them goodbye. 

This time, he did it right.


	9. Penn State

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whatever they did for Thanksgiving, clearly, they should keep that up.

"Hey, boys! Come look at the new addition!" Winston calls as soon as Kurt takes two steps into Mad River, and Noah laughs, starting to pull off his own gloves and hat. 

"Come on," Noah turns, talking to Mike and Tina. "We promise that they're just crazy Badger fans. Not completely mentally ill."

Tina laughs. "Sometimes you could argue sports fans _are_ mentally ill, but so far they seem sane enough."

Burt and Carole come into the bar a moment later, Carole cradling Audrey protectively, and Kurt and Noah lead the way towards where Winston is standing, pointing at the new decoration on the wall. "Got it printed Wednesday and hung it yesterday!" Winston says proudly. 

"You brought Finn by?" Mike says with a grin. "That's awesome." 

"We thought we'd at least let him see where we watch the games," Kurt answers as he nods, smirking slightly. Winston greets Burt and Carole with an interested look, and Kurt quickly intervenes, keeping Winston from announcing who, exactly, all of them are. They do all look at the picture of Finn with Winston, which turned out relatively well, and after Burt has had a picture of himself taken with the picture of Finn, the six of them plus Audrey claim a table with a good view of the screens, place an order, and wait for the pre-game show to start. 

"Coming off a loss last week at home, how do the Badgers' prospects look at Beaver Stadium here in State College? Penn State, of course, is ineligible for post-season play this year and for three more years, and they’ve lost some players, which means they aren’t performing at traditional levels this season. Still, they’re a proud team, playing at home, and eager to show their fans that they are still a powerhouse of a team."

"I'm sure Meredith's been working the Wisconsin defense overtime this week, after their weak showing against the OSU offense. If Penn State doesn't bring their very best defense, though, we could see a high–scoring game."

"The Badgers are still being lead by Hudson this week; his performance in today's game will surely figure into their decision about the starting spot next fall, as well. Jensen’s projected to start next week, in the championship game, but that would still be Jensen’s last start in collegiate football. Come next September, the Badgers will need to fill their QB slot, and Hudson’s performance today will surely help them decide if he is, in fact, the right man to step in."

“Who is this wise guy and why does he think his opinions matter?” Burt grumbles. 

"I hate this commentary," Kurt says. "It's a good thing they don't let Finn listen to it."

"The communications blackout thing sucks, though," Noah comments with a frown, because it does. It was bad enough before; they'd just not attempted to contact him before the games, period, contenting themselves with leaving a message later. Now, though; right now, they'd like to be able to talk to him or at least text him, but it'll be after the game, probably just like it was before, and suddenly Noah's profoundly glad that the football season is nearly over for the Badgers. The Big Ten championship game and maybe a bowl game, and if Noah’s honest, he and Kurt are both hoping they lose next week with Jensen starting, so there’s no bowl trip. He isn't sure what the lack of football means for Finn's schedule, but it seems like it should mean more time to FaceTime, and possibly more weekends to travel. 

Which isn't to say they totally followed the rules. Meredith _likes_ for them to be on communications blackout the entire day leading up to the game, but it's only enforced at two hours out, so they texted Finn up until the last minute, sending _be good_ right at 11:29 am. 

The answering text did bring a smile to their face: _I'll be extra good ;)_.

“I hope all of this noise isn’t hurting her ears,” Carole says partway into the first quarter, frowning and looking down at Audrey. For her part, Audrey doesn’t seem at all bothered by the noise or anything else. 

“Well, you can take her back to the room if you think it’s too much for her, but I really want to stay to watch the game,” Burt says. 

Carole purses her lips and then winces as Penn State makes a first down conversion and about half of the bar groans loudly. “I may have to. Finn won’t mind if I miss a bit of it, and I’m sure I can find it on the television in the room.” She smiles at the rest of them. “I really hate to miss it, but I just can’t imagine the decibel levels are good for her.” She puts Audrey back into the stroller, then grabs the huge–ass diaper bag before heading out of the bar with a wave. 

Shortly after she leaves, Finn throws a pass for over thirty yards, and Burt shouts loud enough to actually be heard over the rest of the noise in the bar. “That’s my boy!”

Kurt shakes his head and leans over, his lips against Noah’s ear. “If I ever get a Tony nomination, we’re not inviting Dad.” Noah laughs and nods his head in agreement as Burt pulls out his phone and starts Tweeting frantically. 

“Dad has over two hundred followers now,” Kurt explains to Mike and Tina, who are looking perplexedly at Burt. “All he tweets about is Badger football, and mostly Finn.” Kurt shrugs. “Who knew there was a niche waiting to be filled by him?”

“What’s his twitter name?” Tina asks, sounding curious. 

“It’s ‘teamhudson’,” Kurt acknowledges with a slight shake of his head, and Tina giggles slightly as they turn their attention back to the game.

At the half, Wisconsin's up twenty-one to nothing, and when the camera pans over the players heading to the locker room, they spot Finn, helmet in his hand and a wide grin on his face. 

"The Badger offense and Hudson are on fire!" the commentator says as soon as they go to the half-time show. "It would be twenty-eight to zero if there'd been just another twenty seconds or so on the clock."

"Absolutely," the other guy agrees. "Whatever they did for Thanksgiving, clearly, they should keep that up!"

“Probably something they put in that turkey at Sarabeth’s West!” Burt declares. 

Noah can't help starting to laugh, and Kurt starts to laugh loudly as well. Tina giggles, Mike looks like he can't decide whether to cringe or laugh, and most of the rest of the bar seems amused, themselves. The rest of them just seem to take proprietary pride, like the city of New York somehow contributed to Finn's playing, at least, but Noah can't help squeezing Kurt's hand tightly, and when the commentator continues, changing the subject to the failure of the Penn State offense to do much of anything, he leans over and kisses Kurt slowly. 

"Guess we'll have to keep that in mind, won't we, blue eyes?" he says with a grin. 

The rest of the game is a similar blow out to the first half, though the Badger defense does let Penn State score a single time. When the clock finally runs out, Wisconsin wins, 42–3. They watch through the post-game press conferences and commentary for as long as they can, because they can't really go home and fuck with Mike and Tina along. There’s always a chance that Burt will want them to come back to the hotel, too, or meet up for dinner. 

"Is it always so loud?" Mike asks when they finally do leave. 

"They've gotten progressively more enthusiastic as the season's gone on," Kurt answers, smirking. "Seems like it has something to do with a 'personal connection' to the team, something like that, right Noah?"

Noah laughs. "Yeah, I can't wait to see how they are _next_ season when he's starting."

"He did promise us tickets next year!" Kurt says with a grin. 

"You two are optimistic," Tina says with a grin. 

Noah exchanges a grin with Kurt. "It's been working for us so far."


	10. 'Home' is a Figure of Speech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are never enough options to describe you, Finn Hudson.

Finn flops into Syd’s papasan chair like an overgrown labrador retriever, arms and legs flying everywhere, and announces, “Beer me, Syd! I need local brew!”

“Good lord, Hudson,” Syd says with a snort, grabbing two beers out of her mini-fridge anyway. “Make yourself at home.” She opens both bottles and hands one to Finn, who looks more relaxed than she can remember seeing him. 

“Your dorm is so comfy, though.” Finn accepts the beer and takes a long swig of it. “And it smells better than mine. Mine smells like dude.”

“That’s because you have an entire football team living in it, Finn, and you’re the cleanest of the entire group. It isn’t hard to smell better than that.” Syd’s not actually sure that Finn is the cleanest of the football players, but it does at least seem plausible. Some of his clothes even actually fit properly.

“Did your… what did Gina call it? Dykesgiving? Was it good?” Finn asks, sprawling even more across the chair, if that were physically possible. 

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun. Though we put Noel in charge of dessert, and she brought frozen pumpkin pie.” She pauses for emphasis. “She didn’t read the box. She thought she could just thaw and serve. Didn’t realize she had to cook it.”

“Oh, ouch,” Finn says, grimacing. “I bet nobody complained, though. I wouldn’t complain, anyway. Noel’s… not somebody I’d complain about.”

“We took away her share of the cranberry sauce.” Syd shrugs and takes a drink of her beer. “And your Thanksgiving?”

If she weren’t the one giving him the beer, Syd would swear he was on his fourth, the way Finn grins at her in response. “It was _awesome_ , Syd. It was great.”

“The food was that good?” Syd asks, and she knows she probably sounds skeptical. “Well, you didn’t eat the entire time, so what else did you do?”

“We took Audrey shopping at the American Girl store on Black Friday. It was _crazy_ , Syd, all those people! And we went to Rockefeller Center, but we couldn’t skate, because I had Aud in the carrier–thingy, but we had some coffee there. Oh, and we watched the parade! Those balloons are _huge_ , Syd, seriously!”

“That doesn’t sound anything like Ohio,” Syd says slowly. 

Finn looks at her with that confused–puppy look. “No, it wasn’t Ohio. I was in New York.”

“You said you were going home for Thanksgiving. I _do_ remember that.”

The confused–puppy look only intensifies. “Yeeeah. That’s what I said.”

“Usually when people say that, they mean they’re going to the place they’re from, you know,” Syd says. “That’s often the usage of ‘home’ by college students.”

Finn shrugs and grins again, finishing his beer before setting the bottle on the floor. “I think home is, like, a figure of speech or something. Sometimes it just means people, Syd.”

Syd stares at Finn for a few moments. “Every time I think I have you figured out, Finn Hudson, you go and confuse me again.”

“I’m just complicated that way, Syd. It’s all very, very complicated. Like a Facebook status.”

“Like a _Facebook status_?” Syd can’t help repeating.

“Yep. Sometimes there’s just not enough options to choose from the dropdown menu,” Finn says, nodding his head sagely.

Syd nods a little bit herself. “I’m beginning to think there are never enough options to describe you, Finn Hudson.”


End file.
